Falling Away With You
by Muse-icfan756
Summary: Belldom drabbles! Basically enough fluff to rot your teeth :D
1. Your song

**Happy Valentine's Day! This is gonna be another new story, but just a collection of drabbles. So I'll upload a couple today and then you can expect them fairly infrequently from then on :D**

**Oh, and it's my first Belldom!**

Matthew pulled out his acoustic guitar and quickly plucked the strings, fiddling with the tuning keys. Drop D. He'd had a melody in his mind for days, and it was finally time to let it out. He sat down on the bed and rested the guitar on his thighs, one hand holding the top of the neck, fingers wrapped around the fretboard, the other gently strumming the strings over the sound hole. The guitar was made of simple beechwood, but it was quite thick. He loved the sound it made, rich and full of life.

He placed his fingers in the right position and began to pick out a song. Slowly, he began making adjustments, until all the sounds were perfect, all the notes made sense. It was a whole different language to Matthew, one he hoped to become fluent in. Music was his way of letting go, his way of controlling his emotions and letting them out, a channel for his inner self. As his fingers absentmindedly twisted the melody, he began thinking of lyrics that would match the song. It would probably be a soft song, possibly a love song, although maybe he'd change it up. They were a rock band, after all. He considered adding a simple drum beat in the background, one with lots of hi-hat and a bit of snare. It wasn't really his area of expertise, the drums, but he knew enough from all the recording sessions to get the general gist.

He rubbed the back of his neck before quickly practising the songs he'd been playing for nearly twenty years. It had been twenty years since he'd first picked up a guitar and began to play. How far he'd come. They'd gone from being a small town band making a racket to some of the biggest stadium rockers of the twenty-first century. They could make history if they wanted to.

He sometimes got in these moods, when he'd suddenly remember something that happened back in Teignmouth. He wondered if fame had changed him at all. The people he used to know said it had and, yes, he could see their point. Nobody normal would wear strange glitter suits. Nobody else would be able to afford to smash their £4000 guitar at least once a week. But the general essence of _Matthew_-was that still there? Was he the same boy he'd been? He hoped so.

Dom observed him quietly from the doorway, one arm resting gently on the guitar, his sharp blue eyes staring off into space, his small lips relaxed. His contemplating face. Dom admired how intelligent Matthew was. Not just in the subjects he enjoyed and knew plenty of facts about, such as music or conspiracy theories, but the way he acted about life generally. The way he thought things through. Even when he rambled on whilst talking until he'd gone off on a tangent, he always seemed to understand what he was talking about. He wondered what it must be like to have an active mind like that.

Dom enjoyed watching Matthew in these moments. He'd watched over the years, from the skinny little fifteen-year-old dreaming about revenge, to the blue haired man attempting to create a new album, to the worshipped-by-fans thirty-three year old lost in his own thoughts. Sometimes it felt like prying, but Dom never really worried about that. They shared everything. Besides, these were the moments when Matt was most natural. Although Matthew himself thought he was most himself when on stage, Dom knew that the glitter suit showman wasn't really him. The Matthew he remembered from school was small and timid but with a big voice and a great mind. He was capable of wonderful things, and these were the moments when he showed it.

Matthew blinked slowly and the presence of somebody standing in the doorway registered in his mind. He turned towards Dom and smiled at the golden angel standing there waiting for him. He patted the bed beside him and resumed playing, Dom carefully sitting down. The bed dipped under his weight and Matt felt his lips curl up at the edge.

"What's this?" Dom asked quietly as Matt played the new song, perfect now. The melodies wound around, interlocking with each other and drifting around the room, bouncing off the walls and reverberating in the corners. Matt turned towards him, fingers automatically finding their positions after years of practise.

"Your song."


	2. Animal Nitrate

_Matt frowned when he saw Dom at the computer. He didn't tend to spend much time on the Internet, but when he did, he usually just used his phone. However, as he peered over his shoulder, he realised he was watching a music video. There was a group of men in a curtained room sharing chairs with pigs and a couple of dancing women in leopard print. That would explain the video. Dom had a slight fetish._

_ "Dom, what the hell is this?" he asked. Dom nearly leapt out of his seat, not having heard Matt come in the room. _

_"It's a music video. Suede. Animal Nitrate. It's a good song," he explained. Matthew pursed his lips and listened to the guitar coming through the speakers._

_ "Hmmm. It's…different." Dom smiled. "I still can't really get over the music video, though."__  
><em>_"I think it's good. It's different, you know. God, I remember listening to this when I was so much younger." Matt grinned as he remembered Dom's Cobain-esque hairstyle back then. '__oh it turns you on, on, on__,' the music blared. Matt shrugged _

_"I'm not going to judge you for your music taste, Dom." _

_"You judge most people by their music taste!" Dom laughed. _

_"Yes, but for you I'll make an exception."_


	3. Decisions decisions

_Dom browsed through the aisles, looking for the perfect gift to get Matthew for Valentine's Day. The shop was full of soppy teddy bears and boxes of chocolates, but there was no way he was getting him that sort of thing. Matthew was more of the…well, that's the problem. He had absolutely no idea what to get him. He wanted to get him something really meaningful, but with their current jobs, there wasn't much that he didn't already have. He'd seen a stupid mug with 'Will you B Minor?' written on it, but that wasn't even funny. He threw his hands up in exasperation and paced the aisles, nibbling the skin on the side of his thumb. _

_"What to get, what to get," he muttered as he left the shop, frowning to himself. There were no decent CDs or DVDs out, although he did consider renting. Then again, all they'd have were sappy rom-coms. He scowled. He hated Valentine's Day. Even when he had somebody to give a gift to, somebody to express his love to, it was a stupid farce. He told Matthew he loved him every day. Did it need a special day for it too? Dom stopped in his tracks when he saw a familiar smirking face in front of him.__  
><em>_"Up in the clouds?" Matthew teased. Dom cracked._

_ "Oh forgoodnesssakes Matthew, what do you want for Valentine's Day?" he blurted. Matt's eyebrows lifted up._

_ "Valentine's Day? Is that soon?"__  
><em>_"It's tomorrow!"__  
><em>_"Oh." Matt bit his lip. "I haven't got you anything, yet, Dom." He looked down at the ground.__  
><em>_"That doesn't matter. What do you want from me?" Matt shook his head. _

_"Nothing."_

_ "Nothing?" Why didn't he want anything? Matt always wanted things.__  
><em>_"I already have you," he mumbled shyly. Dom smiled and wrapped his arms around him. _

_"Awww, Matt. Who knew you were such a romantic?"__  
><em>_"Don't expect a moonlit picnic or something. I have other plans for that night." He wiggled his eyebrows and waltzed off, leaving Dom stunned._


	4. Review

_"Dom dom dom dom dom, you'll never guess what!" Matt shrieked, sprinting into the room, his red hair sticking up in all directions. _

_"What?" Dom asked sleepily, glancing at his alarm clock. 6am. Nice._

_"We've been reviewed again! It's all perfect! I'm so happy!" Matt started spinning around and around in some sort of crazed dance, clutching the magazine to his bare chest. Dom frowned. "Review?"__  
><em>_"A gig review! Kerrang reviewed our gig! They said we're a spectacular live band!" Matt cheered and raced out of the room, returning suddenly with a bottle of champagne. He dug his thumb between the rim of the bottle and the cork, trying to wedge it out. _

_"Isn't it a little early for champagne?"__  
><em>_"It's never too early for champagne." Matt wiggled his arm and the cork popped off,spraying frothy liquid all over the bed. "Woops," he giggled. Chris awoke from all the noise and padded into the room, his eyebrows knitted together at the champagne. _

_"What's going on?" he asked drowsily. Dom explained, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his hair, remembering that it was cropped too short to ruffle. Matt poured the champagne into three flutes, each one full to the brim.__  
><em>_They clinked their glasses together. "Cheers!" And then they each took a sip, the bubbles tickling their lips. Matt smirked at Dom and licked his lips, remembering how much he liked champagne. Dom flushed and pretended to be extremely interested in the glass. Chris glanced between them and sighed. Was everything this gay?_


	5. Absolutely terrible romance chapter lmao

Dominic watched as Matthew slid open the multiple Valentine's Day cards he'd received. For the past two years they'd each got a pile from various girls, some just innocent girls who liked the band, some with a deeper meaning. Occasionally, one lucky girl would get taken up on the offer. Occasionally.

But this year, Dom felt different. He slid open yet another card with a strange lop-sided smiling flower on it and sighed. It was just a hollow gesture. A piece of folded card. Nobody really loved him like a Valentine. He glanced over at Matt, who was smirking at his cards and stacking them on a shelf. His hair-black again- wasn't yet spiked up for the day. He liked him best in the morning, when there was no rockstar facade. He wasn't trying to impress when his black hair fell in front of his face.

Matt felt Dom's eyes on him and turned towards him, Dom flushing slightly as he ducked his head and started collecting up his own cards. Had he been staring at him? To be honest, Matthew didn't mind too much. Sometimes the attention could get too much, but with Dominic, he always craved it. There was something about the way he always gave him his undivided attention that made him feel warm inside. He felt...safe around him. He didn't have to be anybody he wasn't, he didn't have to prove his worth. Was that friendship? Surely it was more than that.

The next time Dom looked up, he caught Matt's icy blue eyes staring at him with some sort of concealed emotion. What was that hidden there? He swallowed nervously as he usually did when Matthew gave him that stare. He'd seen many a woman melt under those eyes, and he wasn't ashamed to admit he understood. He wet his bottom lip and asked,

"Matt? You okay?" Matt nodded slowly, his world suddenly revolving around Dom. He couldn't stop thinking of him. He didn't _want_ to stop thinking of him, yet he wasn't sure why. Dom cocked his head to one side, revealing his slightly tanned neck and Matthew's hands fisted in the loose material of his pyjama bottoms. Dom frowned and stood up, Matt following swiftly so he wasn't left alone on the floor. He wondered how Dom would react if...if he just...

Matthew leant forwards and softly pressed his lips to Dom's. Dom's eyes widened and then fluttered closed, the feeling of Matthew's kiss one that he'd been waiting for for such a long time. He hadn't even known it, hadn't even realised it, but subconsciously he'd been aching for this moment. He wrapped his arms around Matt's skinny waist and deepened the kiss. Matthew sighed into his mouth and Dom smiled. His eyes flicked open to stare into the blue, yet it wasn't as obvious as it usually was. Matt's pupils dilated as he took in Dom's soft features and stroked his cheek carefully. Dom blushed where Matthew's long fingers trailed. And then he pulled his hand back.

"Dom, I-I...I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he stammered out, staggering backwards. He hadn't meant to. He didn't want to force himself onto anybody.

"Matt...it's okay," Dom laughed quietly.

"Really?" Dom nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling Matt towards him again, closing his eyes and holding him tight. After a moment or so, Matt squirmed to get free and wiggled out of his grasp, once again putting himself in charge. He returned his lips to Dom's, pushing him towards the wall of the room. Dom let himself be guided, wanting to let Matthew do what he pleased. He felt hot hands rubbing up and down his back and he fisted his own hands in Matt's hair, keeping their faces close. The tip of Dom's tongue poked towards Matthew's, and Matt felt his knees weaken as he attempted to stay in control of himself. Dom once again deepened the kiss and he felt Matthew trying to push him further and further into the wall, even though it was made of brick. Matt snagged his bottom lip between his teeth and Dom moaned before he could stop himself, desperate for more contact between them, desperate for Matthew. But he was disappointed, yet again, as Matthew pulled back, shaking his head with a big grin plastered onto his face.

"Dom," he giggled. Dom felt the flush rising in his cheeks.

"What?" he asked shyly, biting his lip. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! You're...you're wonderful, Dom."

"I...I...what?" Dom was dazed. Did Matthew just call him wonderful? Did he really mean that?

"Dom." Matthew looked him straight in the eyes. "I-I think, I love you." Dom's own eyes widened with shock, joy, fascination, exultation. He wrapped his arms around Matthew and buried his face in his shoulder.

"You don't know how much I wanted to hear that."

"Really?" He nodded.

"Really."

**Oh that was terrible, lol. I'm awful at these sort of scenes.**


	6. Injection

"That wasn't funny, Matt," Dom grumbled as the nurse cleaned him up.

"It was," Matt giggled, his hand over his mouth. He'd thrown his guitar at Dom on stage and it had caught him right in the face. Thank God it was the end of the show. Dom glared at him.

"It hurt." Matt stopped giggling and pouted at him.

"Sorry, Dom." Dom shook his head stubbornly. "Dom, I'm really sorry. Please, Dom."

"You two are the biggest kids this planet has ever seen," Chris groaned as Matt continued to plead with Dom. He thought he was getting somewhere until the nurse returned with a needle.

"W-What's that?" Dom asked warily.

"You'll need a tetanus injection after the stitches. We don't want you getting ill," she informed him.

"O-Oh, okay then." Dom began to roll up his shirt sleeve but stopped him.

"This one's in your bum."

"W-What?" Dom screeched. Matt burst into fits of high-pitched laughter, clutching at his stomach. "No, no, no that's not happening."

"Look, Mr Howard, the longer you procrastinate the more it could affect you in the long run. If we just get it done now, you can go home...or something." Dom blushed furiously as he unbuckled his trousers, Matt's laughter not helping.

"Hey, Matt, would you mind leaving?" It was a question, but he didn't really get a choice in the answer. Matt nodded and left the room, leaning against a wall outside to control his laughter. Dom had a needle up his bum! This was definitely a story to tell all the interviews.

Dom appeared about ten minutes later, fully clothed again, with an angry frown turning his lips down. Matt fell silent.

"Thanks a lot, mate," Dom said and continued Dom the hallway. Matt ran after him, his little legs not as fast as Dom's.

"Dom, wait!" he cried. "Dom, please! I didn't know it was gonna hit you in the face! Dominic!" Dom drowned out his pleas until he felt Matt leap onto his back. They both tumbled to the ground.

"Matt, haven't you done enough damage today?" Matt's cheeks tinged pink.

"Dom, I'm really really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to throw my guitar at you. And you have to admit that you would've laughed at me if I had an injection in my bum." Dom shrugged. "Come on, don't be like that. Dom?" Matt looked up at him with wide blue eyes and Dom crumbled with a small laugh.

"Cheater," he murmured, ruffling Matt's hair. Matt scowled and tried to rearrange it.

"I let you do that," he told Dom, who grinned.

"Sure you did." Matt nodded and they picked themselves up off the floor as the others approached, eyeing them suspiciously. Matt smiled angelically at them, a cheeky smirk breaking through. He laughed and Dom laughed at him, the two of them chuckling over some silently made pact. Dom would get him back someday.


	7. Flour puff

Matt reached up on his tip-toes as he grasped for the flour in the cupboard. He just wasn't quite tall enough. Damn being 5'7". Dom noticed him and chuckled, breezing past and grabbing it off the shelf before dumping in on the counter alongside the other ingredients. Matt had decided that he wanted to make cupcakes for his birthday. But he didn't want them made for him, he wanted to help. He washed his hands and stood next to Dom, biting his lip as he tried to figure out how the ingredients would ever make the lavish cupcakes they'd chosen. Sure, he'd seen his Mum baking before, so he had a vague idea what he was doing, but he had no idea where to start. Luckily Dom had practise. He'd measured out the ingredients beforehand, just to save the hassle.

"Right, so we've got to put the flour and the sugar together in the bowl," he instructed. "And then we'll add the egg." Matt nodded and opened the packet of flour. He poured it into the mixing bowl and a cloud of white blew up in his face. He turned his head to the side and spluttered, trying not to get it in the cake mixture. Dom chuckled. "You've got to add it in slowly, otherwise that will happen."

"You should've told me that before," Matt grumbled. "How was I s'posed to know?" Dom shook his head with a smile.

"C'mon, we need to add the egg and the milk and then we'll whisk it." He picked a medium egg out of a carton and gently cracked it on the side, splitting it in half and pouring the egg into the bowl. "Now your turn." Matt frowned and picked up an egg. He tapped it on the side of the bowl but nothing happened. He tapped it again, a little harder this time, but still to no avail. Frustrated, he tapped it a little too hard, and the egg split into two, yolk dribbling onto the counter and down the front of the dishwasher. He dashed for the kitchen roll to mop it up, Dom watching him with an amused grin as he cracked another egg to replace Matt's.

"Should I trust you with the electric mixer?" Dom laughed as he got it out of the cupboard in plugged it in.

"Dominic, I'm a grown man, I know how to whisk a bowl of cake ingredients."

"Uh-huh." He handed Matt the mixer. "Well, go on then, smartie, show me what you can do." He stood back, arms folded, lips pursed, eyebrow raised. Matt shakily took the mixer, having absolutely no idea what he was doing but trying to maintain his control over the cake mixture. He put the mixer in the bowl and flicked on the switch, only to find it running wildly out of control and bouncing around, making grinding noises against the edge of the bowl. His eyes widened as he fumbled for the 'off' switch, succeeding in only making the speed faster. The mixture was getting thoroughly mixed, but it was also splattering outside of the bowl.

"Shit," Matt cursed. "Dom? A little help?" Dom pressed his lips together against a smirk as he shook his head, willing to let Matt wrestle with the mixture for a little longer. "Please hel-ah!" The mixer flew out of his hands and creamy cake mixture flew up the walls and splattered Matt in the face. Dom dove into the middle of the mess and carefully switched off the mixture before getting ready to wipe down the surfaces again. There wasn't much cake mixture left over. Matt pouted as Dom finished up and turned to look at him with a victorious grin on his face.

"Alright, alright, don't give me that look," Matt grumbled. "So I can't cook."

"You made a disaster!" Dom chuckled. Frowning, Matt dipped his finger in the remaining cake mixture and smeared it on Dom's face, giggling when Dom tried to lick it with his own tongue.

"Let me get that for you." He reached over and kissed him softly.


	8. Not Alone

Dom watched silently as the girl was wheeled out of the room and looked after her sadly. It was such a shame to see a life go out. It happened all the time, especially in his area of expertise, but it was still always a shocker.

Especially when self-inflicted.

The story was that the girl...hadn't felt connected with anybody. She didn't feel like there was anybody she could talk to. She felt alone and isolated, useless and pathetic. She was only a teenager. It was common for many of them to experience something like this but, unfortunately for Ana, there was nobody there to tell her otherwise.

Yes, her parents regretted it now. And yes, they would do anything to get her back. They didn't have to say it, but Dom could see it through her mother's watery eyes. Unfortunately, it was just far too late.

As he left the room, he collected up his sheets and started to contemplate the entire reasoning behind it. The girl couldn't hold on, she couldn't stay, because...there was nobody there for her? Dom thought of his own relationships. Was he always committed enough? Did he let everybody know how much he loved them on a daily basis?

He began to clear everything away, pulling his jacket on as he left the ward and headed home after the miserable day. As he drove, his mind wandered. How often did he tell people he loved them? How often did he let them know how much they meant to him? Thinking about it like this made him realise that it wasn't that frequent an occasion.

Yes, he complimented people when he felt they deserved it. "Ooh, that's a lovely drawing you've done there," or "I like the way you did your hair today." But did that mean anything? Did they take that to mean anything?

Dom pulled into his drive and got out of the car, locking the door before jogging up the steps to his house on the main road. He twisted his keys in the door and stepped into the porch, kicking off his shoes and laying them neatly by the door.

Was he the first home? It was suspiciously quiet in the house, but he knew that Matthew hadn't had work today. Matt was freelance. He did what he wanted, and from his strange mood this morning, he'd guessed that he would be staying in bed the whole day.

The silence unnerved him. Had Matthew gone out and not come back? What if something had happened to him while Dom was at work? What if he slipped in the shower and hit his head? What if he ate something bad? Dom's heart raced and he panicked, hands shaking as he searched for Matt.

He turned into the kitchen, only to find Matt in the doorway, apparently coming to meet him. Matt eyes Dom's anxious face and frowned.

"Hard day at work?" he asked

Dom shrugged, taking in Matt's slightly rugged appearance. He was wearing an oversized button-up shirt and jeans, with odd socks. There was a thin tie wrapped loosely around his neck and his dark hair was ruffled as if he'd just stepped out of bed and into the clothes. Dom closed his eyes in relief and then reopened them again, realising he was missing out on Matthew.

He grabbed Matt's hand and pulled him towards his body, Matt still worried about Dom and shocked at the force in his grip. Dom pressed their lips together and Matt sighed, wrapping his arms around him. He missed Dom when he was out at work. Little did Dom know that Matt never slept when he wasn't in bed with him. He'd lie restlessly for hours and then stumble drowsily around the house, but he could never sleep alone in the cold bed.

Dom rubbed Matt's back softly and turned his attention to Matt's slightly exposed neck, Matt's shivers from something other than the cold.

"I love you," Dom murmured. "Always remember that."

"O-okay," Matt stammered out, surprised at the random confession. He bit his lip to stop a huge grin breaking out, instead replying with a, "What brought this strange mood on?"

Dom shook his head, not wanting to tell Matt. He seemed happy-he didn't want to spoil the mood. "I just love you and I want you to know that I love you and I respect you and cherish you and if you ever left I don't know what I'd do." Dom buried his face in Matt's shoulder as he heard Matt's, "aww," blushing slightly.

"And the same goes for you," Matt told him softly, serious now. Dom nodded, holding him tight. He didn't ever plan on letting him go.


	9. Dark Secrets

**Teen Belldom? Yes.**

Matthew sat on a bench in one corner of the school courtyard, peeling a banana carefully and trying to avoid getting banana under his nails like he usually did. He sat alone. It wasn't that he didn't have friends, but he just couldn't deal with them today. They were sporty and loud, and often enjoyed teasing him for amusement, even if he was accepted as one of their 'gang'. But today, he just needed to be by himself and concentrate on his own thoughts.

His fringe was growing slightly too long for comfort, falling in his eyes when he moved. He brushed it out of the way as he bit into the banana and sighed to himself as he chewed, watching a gaggle of girls make their way over to the field to enjoy the sunny lunchtime. He shivered in the shadow cast over him by the stone walls of the school. The girls had big grins plastered over their faces and he envied their joy.

It was moments like these when Matthew began doubting everything he knew. He'd always been a bit like it, just getting in strange moods where he began contemplating the universe and the futility of life in general. He never found an answer, but it was comforting to think about. He could get really down in the dumps sometimes, but he always managed to drag himself out of the darkness before he was consumed and stumbled across dangerous territory.

However, more recently, he'd been getting closer and closer to the looming void, and more frequently than usual. He'd been picking out the bad in everything, a little nagging voice inside him choosing to comment on everything. Why did he even bother with this? Besides the fact that he'd already wasted the past nine years of his life in this stupid concrete institution that was supposedly educating him, he felt as if everything was useless these days. There wasn't a single shred of hope to cling to anymore, nothing that he could feel, nothing at all.

Sometimes he caught himself feeling sorry for himself. These thoughts were too deep for a thirteen year old. It was normal to be thinking about this. It wasn't right for somebody to be so depressed all the time. But then he'd remind himself that he'd brought it on himself and he didn't bother trying to cheer himself up. He _could_ be happy. It wasn't that he was permanently miserable; it was just that nearly ever smile felt like a mask.

Everybody was to blame. First of all, himself. It was all his fault, after all, and nothing could help that. But then, of course, his parents came next in line. They could've at least _tried_, couldn't they? Tried to keep the peace? If they hadn't been permanently arguing, if his stupid father hadn't fallen in love with somebody else, he wouldn't have been in this position at all. Then he blamed his brother, Paul. How could he be so much stronger than him? How did he cope with it all? Matthew was desperate for somebody to show him, somebody to shine a light on the correct path, but Paul wouldn't help. He just continued to taunt him, endless teasing, even worse than his 'friends'. In fact, were they even his friends? He'd always dealt with their laughter pretty easily before, but recently they'd been cutting deeper.

Matthew sighed yet again and bit into his banana a bit too viciously, his teeth bashing painfully into each other. He winced and swallowed, lifting his eyes to his surroundings just in time to see another boy coming towards him. He was taller than Matthew-but, then again, that wasn't hard- and had blonde hair that was brushing his chin. He looked like...who was that grunge rock guy? Kurt somebody-or-other? But then, he didn't look like him either. Matthew fumbled in his mind for the boy's name as he got closer.

"Hey," the boy greeted him. "Matt, right?" Matt nodded awkwardly, appraising the boy. "I'm Dominic, but you can call me Dom." He smiled openly and stuck his hand forward, and Matt shook it tentatively. His smile wasn't an in-your-face smile, but it was pleasant and genuine. Dom definitely gave off the friendly, helpful vibe, despite his strange choice of hairstyle. Matt tried to think what would drive him to do that. Obsession with Nirvana? Gay? It could easily be both. He chastised himself for judging by looks alone, knowing from experience that it would have bad consequences.

He cleared his throat and spoke.

"Hi." The single syllable hung in the air between them as Dom continued to grin at him, Matt enthralled with the way the sunlight bounced off of his hair, bringing out the gold.

"So, er, how are you?" Matt shrugged. How was he? His emotions were a bit muddled, if he was being honest. Mostly a mixture of various negative feelings, but for some reason, he felt lighter now that Dom was here with him. Was it just the presence of somebody else, or was it the light-hearted Dom? Such a contrast to Matt-both in looks and personality.

"Fine." Dom chuckled softly.

"Right." Was he really that see-through? Could Dom tell that he was hurting? "What do you have now?" Matt mentally checked his timetable.

"Ugh...Maths with Mr Barner."

"Oh, same here!" Dom told him brightly. "I didn't realise we had a class together." Matt nodded. Neither had really ever paid attention to each other before, but he found himself becoming absorbed in Dom. For the first time in his life, he wanted to know more about another person. He wanted to know what Dom has been like as a child, what his favourite food was, what he did in his spare time. Whether he had a girlfriend or boyfriend or something.

That last thought shocked him, and he swallowed again, breathing in deeply. _He must think I'm so strange_, Matt grumbled internally. _All I'm doing is nodding and staring at him._ He glanced at his watch as he finished up his neglected banana, Dom automatically doing the same.

"We should probably get to class," he suggested. Matt slung his bag over his shoulder and rolled down his blazer sleeves, knowing the uniform rules. Dom observed this with amusement. Nobody ever followed those useless rules. The two walked silently to Maths. However, when Matt sat down in his usual spot, it wasn't the usual person in the seat next to him, but the golden-haired Dominic. They grinned at each other absentmindedly and Matt wondered whether this would be the start of something worth living for.

**A bit dark, don't you think?**

**On another note, I'm probably going to start taking suggestions, as I'm rapidly running out of ideas, so if anybody wants a drabble, please just ask :D **

**(And by that I mean give me suggestions or I will eat your brains)**


	10. Painfully terrible fluff chapter

Dom's eyes flickered open of their own accord and he stretched his arms out, careful not to accidentally knock Matt. He rolled slightly to the side and yawned slowly, his muscles tensing and relaxing again. When he felt slightly more awake, he leant on his side, pulling the duvet further up his body. Matt was facing away from him and he shivered in his sleep, the absence of Dom's arm around him leaving him cold. Dom tugged the duvet further up, leaving just a bit of smooth, pale skin exposed. Matt's dark hair was getting longer again, brushing the tips of his ears and the nape of his neck. It stuck up in a wild clumps from his constant fidgeting in bed, and Dom absentmindedly started stroking it down.

Was it a bit creepy that he was admiring Matt whilst he was asleep and unaware? No matter what the answer, he didn't care. It wasn't often that he got to see Matt like this, Dom usually being the last to wake up. In his sleep Matt seemed peaceful for once, aside from the occasional time he picked up an acoustic guitar-alone. However, even then he was guarded, far off in some distant world. Here he was more exposed and Dom treasured the moment.

He let his fingers dance along Matt's shoulder blade, the pale skin pricking up in goosebumps when his cool nails touched him. His movements accidentally knocked the bedroom blinds, sunlight spilling in through the gaps as the danced. The light bounced off of Matt, his hair lighting up in hidden copper tones, his skin radiating as he rolled onto his back and basked, trapping Dom's hand between his shoulders. Dom watched Matt's face silently and wondered if he was awake. His eyelids flickered, lashes fluttering, but didn't open, his lips set in a smile. Dom rubbed his back where his hand was whilst attempting to wiggle it free and Matt's eyes shot open, Dom finding himself staring at bright blue as he shot up into a sitting position, the duvet collecting around his skinny waist. His messy bedhead defied gravity, sticking up in all sorts of directions without even needing hair gel. Dom bit back a small smile.

"Morning sleepyhead," he murmured softly, beckoning Matt to lie down again. Matt grinned and rested his head on Dom's chest, arms wrapped around his torso. Dom smiled and closed his eyes, the two of them falling asleep together again.

**Please please please (let me get what I want) could I have requests please pretty please? Because I'm seriously running out of idea and you'll probably end up with shocking chapters worse than this if I have no interesting ideas soon. Cheers :D**


	11. Scuffle

Matt sat curled up in the corner of the sofa, his skinny frame only taking up a small amount of space as he read his book. 1984, one of his favourites, simply because it involved everything he was interested in. Deeply engrossed in the book, he didn't notice Dom sneak up behind him until he plucked the book from his hands, tossing it into the corner of the 'room'. The tour bus squished several rooms into one, so when Matt cried, "Hey!" Chris stuck his head out of the bathroom door and could see just what they were up to.

"Dom!" Matt whined. "I was enjoying that." Dom laughed, plonking himself down beside Matt.

"Pff," he scoffed. "Lighten up a little. All you've done for the past two days is read. Where's the playful Matt, hmm?"

"Just because you have no appreciation for intelligence doesn't mean that you can discard good literature."

"'No appreciation for intelligence?' I got an A* in Maths! That's more than you can say." He poked Matt playfully in the stomach.

"Nerd," Matt teased, looking at Dom with a glint in his eye.

"I am not a nerd!"

"Why didn't you come to the last party, then?"

"I wasn't feeling well," he muttered, his voice small. Matt chuckled at him.

"Poor wittle Dommie wanted to go home to Mummy?" Dom lunged at Matt and they both laughed as Matt feebly tried to shove the bigger man off of him.

"Skinny little runt."

"Oi! You promised you wouldn't pick on my stature." Matt's face fell in genuine sadness.

"I 'pwomised,' did I?"

"That's not funny, Dom, and you know it."

"You seemed to find it funny a few moments ago."

"That was before you started picking on me, bitch," Matt snarled.

"'Bitch?' I am _not_ a bitch! Bitch is a girl's insult."

"Well, go on then, prove you're manly enough to deserve a proper nickname, otherwise bitch it is. It seems quite fitting, don't you agree?" Dom howled as Matt kicked him where it hurts, falling back off of him and clutching the sofa. "Or maybe not."

"Matt! What was that for, you bastard?" he seethed. "You can't just fight people without a reason." He sat back up and leapt at Matt again, who was in the process of getting up to retrieve his book, knocking them both to the hard floor. Matt's head banged against the surface and he winced, trying to free his arm from underneath Dom. He threw his weight, or lack thereof, at Dom and the pair rolled to the side, Matt scrambling to be on top. Dom scratched at his chest, the smaller man proving to be stronger than he'd expected, but nothing he couldn't overpower.

Matt tried to keep Dom down on the floor, using techniques he'd seen in movies to shove his face against the ground. He didn't want to hurt him, not really, but he was offended by his comments. It wasn't his fault that he was small, or that he couldn't always pronounce his words correctly. However, just when he thought he had Dom pinned, the other man yanked rolled to the side, knocking Matt's arms so that he collapsed on the floor, Dom returning to his superior position.

"Go on and say it," Dom hissed. "I'm not a nerd. Just because I cared about my education doesn't make me a nerd. Just because I didn't party every night or steal a double bass or a car or hang out with the freaks that you hung out with doesn't make me a nerd, okay?" He held Matt's arms down, Matt gaping at him from below. Was that what he thought? Did he think that Matt thought less of him because he wasn't rash and reckless like he himself was?

"Dom, I-I'm sorry. I know you're not a nerd. And I don't think you're wimpy for that. Not at all," he admitted. Dom sighed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry for mocking you. You are really small, though," he added with a smirk, Matt giving him a playful punch to the shoulder.

Chris watched from the bathroom door, toothbrush still sticking out from his mouth. The whole episode hadn't even lasted five minutes. And yet, as he watched, Matt and Dom leaned in towards each other and softly brushed their lips together, Matt's fingers lacing on Dom's ruffled hair. He rolled his eyes, ignoring the soft sighs from the floor and shut the bathroom door, leaving them to themselves.

**"Me and Dom have had playfights which have had weird things going on behind them that end up turning into almost real fights. But it usually ends up with him, like, holding my face on the ground or sitting on me, just pinning me down in a position until I calm down." - Matthew Bellamy**


	12. Sharing is Caring

The boys lugged their suitcases into the small hotel room and left them leaning against the cream coloured wall, Matt collapsing onto the first bed he saw. Tom chuckled at him and snapped a picture of Matt's exhausted frame lying limply on the bed. Typical that their tour bus had decided to break down in the middle of nowhere. They'd had to walk five miles to find the nearest hotel in this remote town somewhere in Europe, and now they were knackered. Dom went to the shared bathroom to get a glass of water and Matt found himself dozing a bit, the bed surprisingly comfortable for such a cheap hotel. Unsurprisingly, nobody in the foyer had recognised them, despite the band being fairly well-known back in the UK.

"Erm, guys," Chris said, suddenly noticing something about the room booked for 4. "Anybody else notice a problem here?" Matt opened one eye and glanced around the room, the other eye comfortable being closed. He shrugged, not having the best vantage point from the bed. Dom poked his head out of the door, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. After their long walk, it had got later than expected, and he was hoping just to fall into bed and sleep.

"Oh." That was his only response. At the sound of his disappointed voice, Matt sat up, deciding to actually take a look at the room. There were only 3 beds. Tom chuckled nervously and Matt sighed resignedly, knowing his place as the smallest out of the four.

"It's not like this hasn't happened before," he reminded them, shrugging as he moved over to the double bed by the window.

"Yeah, but we managed to wiggle our way out of it when we told them we were touring," Chris informed him. Matt bit his lip.

"Well, one of you is gonna have to share with me." There was an awkward silence. "Oh, come on! I'm really not that bad!" He laid down on the bed and curled up on his side, gesturing with his free arm to the bed space to prove his point. "Look how much space is left in this bed!" He pouted, widening his blue eyes childishly and staring up at the other guys. Despite this, he was thinking, _please not Chris, please, please not Chris. _Not that he had something against Chris, not at all, but he tended to fart in his sleep. Nobody had ever bothered to tell him that, though.

"Fine," Dom gave himself up, coming out of the bathroom with the toothpaste cleaned from his face. "I'll do it." Matt resisted the urge to frown, wondering why Dom sounded so put out by that. They were both quite small, so there wouldn't be a problem with space. Instead, he smiled at Dom and patted the pillow beside him.

"It's like the sleepovers we used to have when we were teenagers!" Matt laughed.

"Oh, you're in hyper mood now, are you?" Dom groaned, his weariness affecting his mood. "Brilliant." Chris smirked at the pair side by side on the bed.

"Are you not going to change? Those jeans are too skinny to be sleeping in, Dom," he suggested. Dom flipped him the finger and lazily got up from the bed again, rummaging through his suitcase and disappearing into the bathroom. "What? I was being helpful!"

"Looks like somebody's not going to get enough beauty sleep," Tom teased, the three of them chuckling.

"I can hear you!" Dom shouted accusingly through the door, which only made them laugh harder.

Matt unzipped his suitcase and began to pull out his pyjamas, debating whether to wear a shirt or not. On a warm night like this, he'd usually only wear boxers, but he wasn't sure whether he was entirely comfortable with that, what with sharing a bed and all. When Dom reappeared, he nipped into the bathroom himself and changed into his pyjamas. He smoothed down the red, stripy material covering his chest and quickly flattened down his hair a little. _What are you doing?_ He asked himself and then laughed at his reflection in the mirror. _Stupid moron._

He padded back to the bed and laid on top of the duvet, his hands under his head as he gazed out of the window. Dom was sat on the edge of the bed, putting on some moisturising cream or something. Matt's lips turned up at the corners but he said nothing, fully aware of Dom's slightly irritable mood. It wasn't fun to antagonise him when he got really mad. And he was too tired, anyway.

Dom cleared his throat. "Are you going to get under the duvet?" he asked. Matt frowned.

"It's a bit too hot for that, isn't it?" he replied. Dom shrugged.

"I just feel more comfortable under it. I mean, we don't have to if you don't want to but-"

"No, no, it's okay!" He crawled under the covers and slid towards the edge of the bed, leaving as much space between him and Dom as possible. He felt the bed dip as Dom got in beside him, turning on his side so that his back was facing him.

"You two lovebirds have a nice night, alright?" Tom chortled.

"Yeah, don't make too much noise. We want to sleep over here," Chris added.

"Fuck off, Chris," Dom muttered, yet again pulling laughs from the lucky two in the single beds. A blanket of silence settled over them and then they were plunged into darkness. As if on cue, Matt shifted in bed at the same time as Dom did, causing them both to roll slightly further towards the edge of the bed than they'd aimed. Matt cursed silently and gripped the edge of the bed. He'd been single far too long to remember how to share a bed with someone.

"Matt," he heard Dom whisper, "you don't have to sleep right on the edge of the bed, you know." Matt twiddled his fingers nervously below the covers.

"Won't that crowd you?" he wondered.

"It's a double bed. There's room for both of us comfortably." Matt strained to hear his voice, Dom's whisper quieter than his breathing so that Tom and Chris wouldn't hear them

"Oh, okay." Matt shifted further onto the bed, finally relaxing his muscles and sinking into the mattress. He closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling deeply only to cough on the humid air. He turned on his side, hugging his legs to his chest. Five minutes later, he decided that position wasn't comfortable enough, and rolled over onto his front. The heat was stifling and making it difficult to breathe, and he found himself breathing twice as heavy as usual. The bed bounced again as he twisted so that he was sleeping on his back.

"Will you just go to sleep?" Dom hissed from the other side of the bed.

"Sorry," Matt mumbled. He swallowed, hoping he wasn't annoying Dom _too_ much, as his paranoid mode kicked in. What if he had nightmares and talked in his sleep? He tended to toss and turn a little, so what if he accidentally hit Dom? Or worse, what if he woke up like...He felt his cheeks flush just at the thought of it. Surely, having been friends for 20 years, they would be over that, but he still felt awkward. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to go to sleep.

He must've drifted off eventually, because when he was next conscious of his whereabouts, a dim light was streaming through the gap in the curtains. Matt squinted through his droopy eyes, wondering why he'd woken up so early in the morning, when he heard a breath by his ear. He froze and suddenly became aware of an arm wrapped around his waist. Dom's arm. Matt held his breath as he glanced down, just making sure it really _was_ Dom's arm and this wasn't all some crazy dream. But there it was, the same arm that had comforted girls, played the drums fantastically and even punched Matt in the gut-but that was a long time ago.

Matt closed his eyes again, wondering why this seemed to be such a big deal to him and trying to go back to sleep. However, whenever he felt like he was finally falling away, he would feel Dom shift ever so slightly behind him and he'd be wide awake again. So instead he laid trapped under Dom's arm, watching the light gradually get brighter. _Trapped?_ He thought to himself. _You're not exactly making an effort to move him._ And yet, completely aware of this fact, he did nothing to change their position, instead trying to mentally calculate what the time was whilst concentrating on keeping his breathing steady.

"I know you're awake," a sleepy voice murmured in his ear, startling him.

"O-oh." Matt's mind was filled with questions. _If you're awake, why are you still hugging me? How long as he been awake? Are Chris and Tom still sleeping?_ A loud snore from across the room confirmed the latter question, but the rest were left unanswered.

"Are you too hot?"

"No," he lied. He felt Dom press his face into his neck and shivered when he felt an exhalation on the sensitive patch there. He shifted in Dom's arms, wiggling around to face him. The two found their faces within inches of each other's. Dom glanced at Matt's cerulean blue eyes, still wide with shock. How had he not noticed how pretty his eyelashes were before? Matt blinked and Dom watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His brain was suddenly filled with different mental images, most of which he had no idea where they had come from. What was this all of a sudden?

"So, um..." Matt's statement trailed off as he saw Dom smile at him, teeth glinting in the slight light.

"So, um, what? Why have I got my arm around you? I'm not entirely sure myself. Is it bothering you?" Matt paused before shaking his head, and Dom's smile grew. He tightened his arm so that their chests touched when they inhaled, Matt's brain fuzzy. _Since when have you been the passive one? Since when has something as small as this made you go crazy?_ His delirious mind had no answers, only capable of mentally commenting on how beautiful Dom's smile looked that morning, his dishevelled hair sticking out from odd angles. Matt moved one arm up to flatten Dom's hair down for him, but he didn't move his hand away when it was done, instead choosing to keep stroking it. Dom closed his eyes and purred at the sensation, his hand pressing into the small of Matt's back.

"This wasn't so bad, was it?" Dom told Matt. "Sharing a bed?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you earlier!" Matt giggled softly.

"Yeah, except you did everything you promised you wouldn't." Matt pouted and Dom prodded the protruding lip playfully, his eyes opening. Their eyes made contact all of a sudden and Matt once again found himself caught up with admiring Dom's facial features. He'd never paid all that much attention to Dom's looks before.

No. That was a lie. He _had_ looked and he _had_ wondered, but he'd squashed down any thoughts of it when they started touring for the first time. Since then, his mind had wandered only occasionally, more interested in Dom's personality than general looks. Had Dom thought of him in this way? No, probably not. Yet he was fully aware of Dom staring at his lips right now, and he wet them self-consciously. They were so close that they were almost sharing breath.

Dom's hand tightened further at exactly the same time Matt leaned forward, resulting in their lips pressed tentatively together. The pressure made Matt's arms fall limp with pleasure. A small niggling part of Dom's brain was yelling, 'NO NO NO THIS IS WRONG,' but most of him was trying to override the system. Matt didn't have a single problem with it at all. In fact, any shame he felt at having thought of this before immediately evaporated when he felt how good it was to have Dom's full lips on his. He twisted his hand in Dom's golden locks, curling them around his finger at the end, Dom's jaw automatically opening his mouth slightly.

Matthew edged his tongue forward to wet Dom's own lips, but he was beaten to it and felt Dom nibbling his bottom lip. He squeezed his eyes shut, keeping quiet so that they wouldn't wake Chris and Tom. Their legs intertwined at the ankles, getting caught up in the sheets. Dom released Matt's mouth and stared at him. Matt's brow furrowed as he leaned in again, but Dom's hand was suddenly on his chest.

"What's wrong?" Matt asked, dread filling him. _Please don't say, 'Let's not talk about this after tonight.' Please. _

"Are you sure this is all okay for you? Like, I'm really enjoying myself but I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything." Matt stifled a laugh of relief.

"Really, Dom? You're really asking me that?" Dom shrugged and brought their lips together again.

In the morning, Chris was the first awake. As he stumbled to the bathroom to rinse his sleepy face, he happened to glance over at the double bed where he spotted the two men embracing in their sleep, Dom's arms wrapped around Matt's wiry frame, Matt's face buried in Dom's strong shoulders. The stark contrast between them, Matt's pale skin and shock of dark hair completely opposite to Dom's summery tones, worked perfectly, and the pairing seemed perfectly natural. He smiled. For all the teasing, it was quite cute. He frowned at himself then, wondering whether soppiness was just a morning thing or whether he just needed to go home and finally relax with Kelly.

Matt woke in blissful peace, safe in Dom's arms. He felt an ecstatic smile stretch across his face as he remembered that they'd spent the past night snogging quietly in the bed. It was better than anything he'd imagined it would be, better than the stories he'd heard from Dom's previous girlfriends, better than anything. And Dom seemed really present the whole time, not awkward or uncomfortable at all. It was fantastic.

The four rose properly at about eight and proceeded to get washed and dressed. Hopefully the main crew had rescued the tour bus and, possibly, fixed it. However, that was probably a bit too much to wish for. Matt found himself sharing looks with Dom when the pair remembered the night before, and then they turned away with matching secretive smiles plastered on their faces. Dom's hand brushed Matt's briefly when they were checking out in the foyer, resulting in a gasp from the smaller man. He only saw Dom's smirk for a second before he was hurried out towards the small pocket-sized car park. He shook his head in disbelief.

**So, this is actually longer than most of my average chapters usually are. Woopsie!**

**Yet another fluff fest considering I'm losing the plot, basically just created from one of my strange daydreams. I'll probably use this in a future story or something.**


	13. Matturity

I stepped into the shade of the house, fanning myself with the magazine I'd been reading, and reached for the glass of ice cold water sitting on the table. I took a deep swig of the water, refreshing myself, and ran a hand through my messy hair, cringing when I realised how sweaty my forehead was. Deciding to go for a quick shower, I jogged up the stairs. However, before I entered my own room, I noticed that Matthew's door was completely shut. He hadn't been downstairs with the rest of us, and there were no noises coming from his room. For some reason, I felt an eerie sense of foreboding, and took it upon myself to check up on my friend.

It only occurred to me as I was pushing open the door that Matt might have been asleep and that I'd had nothing to worry about, but by that point, my concern was proven true. He was sat on the bed, his arms wrapped around his legs, his shoulders hunched over and his chin resting on his knees. His hair, longer now, since he was too lazy to go to the barber's, flopped into his unusually lifeless eyes and his face seemed devoid of all emotion. I felt my breath catch with shock.

"Matt?" I asked softly. "You okay, mate?" As if he'd just noticed me for the first time, his head swivelled around to where I was standing in the corner of the plain room.

"Yeah, I guess," he mumbled, facing straight ahead again and staring into the distance.

"You want a drink or something? We were playing tennis, you could come and join us." He shook his head and I sighed. Always stubborn. "Well, fine. You can sit up here feeling sorry for yourself, all alone. I'm going now, goodbye, Matt." I turned away from him, reaching out for the door handle and desperately hoping he would call me back. I didn't want to leave him, but I couldn't go back on what I'd said.

"Wait," Matt croaked. "Dom, please. Come here." Letting my hand fall from the brass, I sat on the edge of the bed beside him, feeling the mattress dip under my weight. Getting a closer look at him, I could see that his eyes had bags under them and he seemed skinnier than he had been recently, almost as small as when we'd first met so many years ago. "Dom, I'm scared." His voice was small; I wouldn't have been able to pick it out if I didn't know him so well.

"Of what? What's the matter, Matt?" He shook his head again, blocking me out. "Come on, I'm your best mate. You can tell me."

"Look at us." His hand gestured between the two of us and then fell limp by his side. "Just come off tour. Our seventh tour. I'm exhausted, Dom. I don't know how you guys can be out there playing tennis when I feel like I could sleep for years."

"You're just worn out. You know that you do more than us. Interviews and court cases and God knows what else."

"No, it's not that. I was always able to cope with it before. It's only recently...I just...y'know what I mean?" I shook my head, although I had a faint idea where he was heading with this. "I'm growing old, Dominic. We're getting old."

"Matt," I sighed. "You're not even forty yet."

"But I will be next year! I'll be forty years old. There's a difference between being thirty-nine and forty. Forty is the age when people say you are considered old. I mean, look-" He reached up a ran a hand through his dark brown hair, showing me a few locks. "Grey hairs! I've got grey hairs, Dom! You can't be a rockstar when you've got grey hair!" I placed what I hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Brian May's still a rockstar."

"But he's Brian May," Matt muttered. "He can do anything. Us, we use massive stage shows and dancing in our concerts. What happens when I'm too old to move like that? What happens when I get arthritis and can't play music anymore?" His speech sped up, even faster than his usual pace, as his anxiety broke through.

"Matt, you're getting way too worked up over this. That'll be ages away! We've still got now to enjoy."

"I just think that, maybe...maybe people are getting tired of me, you know? They'll be looking at me and saying, 'What's that pretentious idiot doing prancing around in those flashy suits? Doesn't he realise how old he is?'" I laughed quietly but had nothing else to say, no way of comforting him. There often wasn't a way when he got into moods like this.

For a couple of minutes, silence settled upon the room, my hand still resting on Matt's shoulder as he mused over his troubles.

"Maybe," his voice broke through the silence, "we shouldn't do the band thing anymore." I felt my heart skip a beat.

"What?" I questioned, disbelief colouring my voice.

"Muse. Not do it. Or at least, I shouldn't do it. I look like an idiot. Muse needs somebody younger, someone with more energy. It always was about the energy. I don't think I have that anymore." He hung his head, his shoulders dropping impossibly further.

"Don't you even say that! Matt, we can't have somebody else replace you! Muse wouldn't be Muse without you. Everything would change."

"Change is good. Haven't you listened to me all this time?" I shook my head violently.

"You're an idiot, you know that? After all this time, you want to end the band? Even when...even when my f-father died, we still didn't end the band then. What makes you think we're going to do it now just because you're feeling a little insecure. It's not all about you, you know!"

"I didn't say that at all!" he yelled, his icy blue eyes pinning me down. He always was able to make me squirm uncomfortably without saying a word, but the chills running down my back weren't just from the harsh look. "You're making this about something else, Dominic! I was saying that maybe _I_ should leave the band because you guys deserve better. I was trying to be selfless. You don't want to be lugging me around anymore. It's for the best."

"No! It's not for the best." I took my hand away from his shoulder, standing up swiftly. "How could you even think that?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "How could you leave us like that, Matt? Surely you wouldn't do that. To us. To Chris. To me." Matt squeezed his eyes shut tight, and when he reopened them, they were brimming with tears.

"I'm sorry, Dom," he choked out, his voice breaking, salty water spilling over the edge and silently rolling down his cheek. "I'm sorry that I'm growing old. I'm sorry I'm not good enough for the band anymore. I tried, I really did. I just...I can't do it." He shook his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as more tears dripped onto the duvet. I sat down next to him again and wrapped his small figure up in my arms, desperate to comfort him in the only way I knew possible. His long fingers wound into my shirt and he pressed his head against my chest. With one of my arms holding him close, the other hand naturally fell to stroke his soft hair.

"Matt, I don't believe you. How can you say you're not good enough? You saw the reception the album got. You saw how many people came to our gigs, how many fans we met telling us that we saved their lives. Did you forget all that?" He burrowed his face in the crook between my neck and my shoulder.

"Not all the reception was good," he answered, his reply a little muffled.

"Is that what this is about? The criticism?" I rubbed his back as his shoulders shook.

"No! No, I promise it isn't, Dom. I'm stronger than that. It's just...I can see it in people's eyes. It's the mix of pity and...d-disgust. I'm not a proper rockstar anymore."

"Not a pwoper wockstar?" I teased. "I think you're a pwoper rockstar."

"Shut up." Even as he said it, I felt him smile against my skin, his fingers tightening.

"Listen to me, Matt. Don't believe any of the bad stuff. You're not outdated, you're not boring or not good enough for the band. You're perfect, no matter what anybody else says. Who cares if they don't like the falsetto in that song? They're probably just jealous that they can't do it like you can. You've got to look on the positive side of things, believe the fans that love you, believe me."

Every word I said was true. Matt, no matter what image he tried to portray, was a fragile creature. I'd learned his ways early and I'd also learned to express my feelings to him without expecting the same in return. Sure, he would always comfort me when I needed him, but he was much more locked-up about his feelings than I was. I often found myself wishing I knew how he felt, wondering what he could possibly be thinking in that crazy mind of his.

"You always were the optimist," Matt chuckled softly. He pulled back, loosening his grip and training his sharp eyes on me. I could see the way his cheeks flushed, the tracks the tears had made shining on his pale skin, and I wiped at them gently. He grabbed my hand and locked our fingers together.

"I'm sorry, Dom," he apologised, the full meaning behind it hidden in his eyes. I shrugged.

"Don't worry about it," I told him truthfully. "I see where you're coming from, honestly, I do. But I just don't feel that you need to worry about that any time soon. There's still so much you have left to give." Matt smiled.

"I guess."

"And besides, you're way too immature to do any serious growing up in the near future!" He gaped and hit me around the head with the pillow lying beside him. I threw my head back and laughed heartily, Matt's high-pitched giggles echoing around the room. "C'mon, I'm thirsty again. We should go get a drink." He nodded, letting himself be pulled up by me.

"Thanks, Dom," he told me softly. "For being here for me and stuff."

"That's what friends are for, right?" Matt nodded and Dom winked at him playfully, the pair heading back downstairs with their hands still linked.


	14. Visual Mishaps

"And…that's a wrap!" Tom announced, flicking off the camera. Dom sighed with relief and made his way over to the side of the room, taking a quick swig of water and relishing the refreshing feeling. His friend clapped him on his shoulder. "You were great out there, mate! These tour visuals are gonna look really good, I hope. I can just see it now…." Tom trailed off as he envisioned the faces of awestruck fans staring at screens showing Dom as a, well, ninja would probably be the right word.

"Can I have a go with this stuff?" he heard Matt ask from across the room and turned to see him pointing at a pile of utensils.

"Sure, why not?" Tom smirked and pulled out his iPhone, prepared to take pictures of what could only be an embarrassing moment for the frontman. Matthew leaped into the centre of the room and started flinging a briefcase around like it was his guitar, giggling at his own idiocy. Dom watched from the sidelines, amused, as Matt squatted.

"I'm such a good ninja, I think I deserve a cool nickame. Something catchy and wild." He paused, stroking his chin.

"How about 'Suitcase Wanker'?" Dom suggested, resulting with a rude gesture from Matt. "'Nutcase with a Briefcase'?" He felt his lips turn up at the corners as Matt stuck his tongue out childishly.

"No, no, I've got an idea now. I could be," he whipped a sword out of the briefcase, announcing proudly, "'The Matt-astrophe!'"

Chuckles echoed around the room, Dom snorting into his water as Matt wielded the sword, cackling wickedly to himself.

"You're going to cause a Matt-astrophe if you keep swinging at people like that. You'll end up taking your own nose off!" Dom laughed. Matthew pouted at him and flung down the sword, stalking towards his boyfriend and nicking the bottle out of his hands. Water sloshed down Dom's torso and he frowned at Matt. "Now look what you did!" Matt sniffed, sipping at the water.

"Christ, I'm exhausted. Definitely in need of some nice food right now," he told himself. Dom prodded Matt's belly.

"Maybe the reason you're so exhausted is because you're_always_ in need of some nice food these days," he teased. Matthew brought his head up, eyes level, and gave Dominic his best icy glare.

"And what are you trying to say?" He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Dom's answer, only to find himself wrapped in strong, Lycra covered arms.

"Nothing at all, love. I think you're perfect." Matt smiled, peering over Dom's shoulders.

"I have to say, your arse looks stunning in this suit. Are you going to keep it?" he murmured. Dom stifled a laugh.

"If you want me to." He felt the fine hairs on Matt's chin tickling his neck, Matt still admiring his behind.

"Mmm definitely. Maybe wear it on stage, yeah?"

"Don't you think that's a little dangerous?" Dom asked, pulling Matt back off his tip-toes. "For us?"

"Nah, it'll be fine. And definitely worth it."

"Listen, are you lovebirds done? Because quite frankly I'm starving and since Matt mentioned food, I'm desperate for Chinese," Tom called, rubbing his stomach impatiently. Matt nodded with agreement and hopped out of Dom's arms, pulling him to the door and giving a playful slap to his rear before following Tom out the door.


	15. Marvellous Misadventures of Bat Bellamy

Dom stumbled into their shared bedroom, leaning against the wall for a moment to catch his breath and stop his limbs from shaking. He looked out at the room, noticing a large object hanging from the ceiling, wrapped in a blanket.

_That's odd,_ Dom thought to himself. _I don't remember hanging something up._

_Oh well._

He rolled into bed and fell asleep immediately.

When he woke up in the morning, his head was throbbing painfully. He slammed his hand down on his alarm clock that he'd stupidly forgotten to turn off and rolled over, searching for Matt. His hand patted the empty space beside him and Dom opened one eye, confused.

"Matt?" he called.

"Yes?" a muffled reply came from across the room. Dom looked up to see the object hanging from the ceiling swaying slightly, and in the daylight he was able to see what it was. A pair of socked feet were tied together and hanging precariously from a hook on the ceiling. A thick blanket was wrapped around Matt's wriggling form and he could see tufts of hair sticking out the top-well, bottom.

"Matt, what the hell are you doing?" Dom pulled himself out of the bed and rushed over to the giggling man swinging from the ceiling. "You could get yourself hurt."

"I've done it before, Dom. I'm not stupid." Dom folded his arms.

"Could've fooled me. How did you even get up there?"

"Tom helped me." Matt's head peered out from the blankets, a giant grin spreading across his face. "You were so shitfaced last night, you didn't even see him leave to help me set up." Dom clenched his fist and stormed out of the room, rapping on the door opposite and ignoring Matt's cries. Tom opened his door, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"It's a bit early for you, mate," he mumbled, hair sticking up like a bird's nest.

"Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to help Matt hang from the ceiling?" Dom demanded, furious with his friend.

"He seemed like he wanted to. Told me he'd done it before but couldn't get himself up there. He's not too heavy so I managed to hang him and he was satisfied."

"He could've been hurt! Think of all the blood rushing to his head. Or what if he had a nightmare and kicked about? What if he fell off the hook and broke his neck? How would you feel then, hmm?" Tom looked down sheepishly and remained silent. Dom left, stalking back to his own room. Matt was quiet, observing him from his cocoon.

"Are you mad at me, Dom?" he inquired softly. Dom sat on the edge of the bed and ran a head through his hair.

"I-I just think you're being stupid, Matt," Dom replied honestly. Uncomfortable silence settled between the two.

"Look, Dom, I'm a worm!"

He looked up to see Matt pulling a face at him from within the blankets, wriggling around and giggling. Dom sighed, although he had to admit it was a little bit funny. He began to pull on his clothes for the day, his pounding head demanding paracetamol and his stomach desperate for breakfast.

"Hey, Dom," Matt called. "Help me down, please?" Dom grinned over at Matt, pulling on his shoes. "Dom? Pwease? Dommy?" Dom stood up, arranging his hair into a sensible position. "Dominic, help me down now. I order you to help me down."

"Bye, Matt," Dom laughed, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him as he left for breakfast, Matt's cries of, "Dom! You bastard, help me _down!_" audible all the way along the corridor. Hopefully that'd teach him a lesson.


	16. X-ray of the problem-matt-ique

"You'll never get me!" Matt cried, sprinting through the house as Dom chased after him, waving a hoodie in his hands. He panted, Dom's longer legs allowing him to catch up easily, and scrambled over the sofa out into the hallway. The little dog skittered around his feet, flashes of black and white darting into his vision every so often and threatening to topple him over.

"Goddamn it, Matt," Dom breathed, running around the sofa and racing after him. Matt flung open the front door and nipped outside. He hurried along the pavement, able to hear Dom whining about the cold behind him, and snickered. Jogging to the nearest lamppost, he allowed Dom to breeze past him before turning around and heading back to the house, able to feel the cold seeping into his body through his bare feet and shivering. As he neared the door, he glanced back at Dom, who was still wearing that playfully angry face, his hair mussed up and cheeks flushed pink.

Unable to see where he was going, Matt's foot caught on a crack in the ground. He flew through the air and whipped his head around just in time to see himself heading for the door. Hands out, he braced himself, hoping to take the fall as gracefully as possible in such a situation. The smile fell from his lips as he landed, and suddenly a searing pain shot through his foot as he crumpled on the floor.

Dom watched in horror as Matt reached the ground again and caught his foot on the concrete doorstep, curling up instinctively and hugging his foot to his chest. His jaw was clenched, teeth gritted and, as Dom got closer, he could see the beginnings of tears pricking in his eyes. Matt shook them away.

"Oh my God, Matt, are you alright?" he asked urgently, bending down beside him and watching his face. Matt nodded, paused, and then shook his head. He pulled his hand away from his foot, slowly straightening out his leg and leaning on his elbows. His palms were grazed, the skin ripped up with blood trickling from a small cut on the side of one hand. His shins felt sore to the touch and his pale trousers had scuff marks around the knees. "I'll go get something for your hands." Dom got up to go into the house but Matt grabbed his hand.

"No, no, stay! Please," he begged, voice cracking slightly. "Could you just...will you check my foot for me? I think I bashed it up a bit." Dom returned to his former position and carefully cradled Matt's right foot in his hands, knowing how much he hated it when people touched them.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" Matt nodded as Dom began to test his foot, getting him to circle his ankle and flex his feet. When told to wiggle his toes, however, Matt hissed. Although he still didn't notify Dom of any pain, his boyfriend knew that there was a problem. He gently touched his toes, Matt wincing and pulling his foot away. Dom's lips were pressed together tightly.

"I'm going to take you up to the hospital," he told him in that no-nonsense voice Matt had heard so often.

"What? You don't need to do that. Maybe I just need to rest it for a bit." Dom shook his head sadly.

"I really think you should get it checked out, Matt. It looks pretty serious." Sure enough, when he heaved himself up to sit up properly, he could see that his toes were bent at a strange angle. The front area of his foot looked painfully red and a little bit swollen. He swallowed and held his arms out to Dom, a hopeful smile flickering on his lips. Dom rolled his eyes and returned the grin, putting his hands under Matt's arms and hauling him up from the floor. They slowly made their way to the car, Matt hopping on one foot and looping an arm around Dom's shoulders. He made to get into the car and his foot knocked against the edge of the door, causing him to whimper and screw his face up in pain. Dom apologised profusely, eyes wide, and promised to return quickly.

* * *

><p>Matt squeezed Dom's hand, looking anywhere other than his feet. The doctor was currently trying to straighten his foot so that he could put the splint on it, but he seemed completely unaware that he was causing Matt any pain. Every time it flared up again, he would grip Dom's hand and Dom muttered under his breath that he'd be in here for a cast himself before the doctor was done.<p>

Matt's eyes drifted to Dom's face and he gave him a weak smile.

"You alright?" Dom whispered, anxiety lacing his voice. He glanced down at their fingers where they were joined together.

"Yep," Matt croaked. "Fine and dandy."

"There you go, Mr Bellamy," the doctor announced, finally finished with Matt's foot and stepping away from it. Matt sighed with relief. "You should be fine to walk around on it if I give you a pair of crutches, but try not to move around too much just in case. It's not too disastrous an injury, so you can resume your normal routine after about two weeks, but definitely don't be as active as usual for the next few days." Matt's mouth fell open and he turned to Dom, who was also struck with horror.

"We're going to have to cancel the shows," Matt mumbled, running a hand through his hair and dropping his head to his chest, eyes squeezed tightly closed. Guilt flooded him as he thought of the plans they'd had for both themselves and the fans, and he swallowed nervously. Dom looked away and stared out of the window.

* * *

><p>Matt shuffled down the corridor, the crutches constantly swinging out from underneath his arms. When they clattered onto the floor for the ninth time, he leaned against the wall and gave an aggravated sigh. Dom picked them up and handed them back to him with a huge grin, perpetually amused by Matt's inability to walk. The smaller man still hadn't quite grasped how to walk with the crutches and was making slow progress down the corridor towards the car park.<p>

"Oh man, these next two weeks are going to be great," Dom chuckled, just thinking of all the things he could do. "All those times you pushed me over, teased me in interviews and laughed at me...ahh, revenge is sweet." Matt scowled, sticking his tongue out at Dom.

"If you dare trip me up whilst I'm on crutches, I swear to God, I will murder you." Dom raised one eyebrow.

"How are you going to do that? Bash my head in with the end of your crutch? I'm sure I could run away before you get to me. Oh! And now you can't spill pasta sauce on my favourite hoodie and get away with it anymore."

"Just remember, Dom." Matt smiled at him angelically. "People always believe the injured guy."

* * *

><p>It turned out that having Matt at home in bed wasn't as funny as Dom had initially thought. Every time he tried to leave the room, Matt called him back, demanding something more.<p>

"Dom, I'm hungry."

"Dom, I'm cold, will you fetch my socks?"

"Dom, I really fancy a back massage. All this lying around is getting uncomfortable."

If he was being quite honest, he was getting sick of it. He didn't mind caring for Matthew and he treasured the moments that they might not have had if Matt had been able to wriggle out of his arms and sneak off to the music room, but he was growing tired. Matt's demands grew more and more ridiculous as the days dragged on, and on the fourth day, Dom snapped.

"Why don't you go and make your own pasta? You've got crutches; damn well use them!" he shouted, pointing at the crutches that had been left neglected on the floor. Matt fell silent, his lower lip protruding as he fiddled with the bedsheet. Dom wanted to rip his hair out but instead scratched his neck, began to speak, closed his mouth, and then opened it to speak again. "Matt, I'm sorry. I don't mean it, honestly. I'll go and make your pasta now."

"No, Dom, wait," Matt called. "Don't worry about it, I'm not hungry anymore. Come and sit with me." He patted the space next to him on the mattress and shuffled to the edge so that there was room for Dom on there with him. The blonde lay beside him and Matt rested his head on his shoulder, comforted by his presence. "I'm sorry I made you do all those things. I shouldn't have antagonised you so much."

"It's not your fault, Matt. It's my job to care for you when you need me, and I guess this is one of those times." Dom wrapped his arms around Matt and they curled up together. All they could hear was the other breathing and the soft sound of sheets slipping over their legs. "Only you would be so stupid as to break your foot before we go on tour." Dom shook his head, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips, and Matt pelted him with a pillow.

"Cheeky bugger."


	17. Observational

Matt sat in the corner of the bar, sipping at his drink and observing. A young girl was sat on Dom's lap, leaning down towards him and intentionally exposing her cleavage, Dom's eyes wide like a teenage boy. As Matt watched, he got up from the bar stool, their fingers intertwined, and left the room. Matt's eyes followed them to the doorway, where they disappeared upstairs. He downed the last of his drink and ordered another one.

His began his new drink, hoping to refresh his mind as well as his throat. But he couldn't focus. His mind kept wandering to Dom and wondering what he was up to, even though he knew full well. Unconsciously, his hand tightened around the glass as thoughts flew through his mind, his teeth grinding into each other slowly.

Would he be undressing her yet? Would he push her clothes off and admire her before his instincts overcame him? Would he press her down onto the bed and begin the gentle journey south?

Or maybe he wouldn't take it so slow. Maybe he needed to relieve some stress. Maybe he wanted it rougher, harder, faster.

Matt could be that. Matt would be anything Dom wanted him to be, and both of them knew it, yet neither acknowledged it. Dom continued to pick up girls and Matt continued to kid himself that he didn't care.

His drink tasted bitter as he sipped again, the world growing fuzzy even as he focussed his eyes. How many of these could he get down before he passed out?

Was he _fucking_ her yet? Was he whispering in her ear, was she clinging to him and digging her nails into his shoulders? Were his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth hanging open, sweaty hair falling in his face? Was he thinking of anything or was his mind full of blinding colours, white-hot against his eyelids?

Matt shook his head, curling his fingers around the glass until he thought it might crack under the pressure. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. He could get his own girl if he wanted to. He could do whatever he wanted, whether Dom liked it or not.

And then he smiled to himself. At least the girl would be discarded in the morning. And then Dom would be his again.

**Something a little different here. Not entirely Belldom either, but sort of.**


	18. Perfection

Matthew dreams of Dominic. He dreams of his golden hair splayed out on the pillow, dreams of soft, tanned limbs wrapped around his own skinny form, dreams of sparkling grey eyes staring at him from across the room. Not content with only visiting him during the day, Dominic has captivated him past the point of return. Indeed he is infatuated, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Because, for Matthew, this is something of a relief. He'd spent so long wondering if he'd ever fall in love. Numerous nights he had laid on his bed and doubted himself, his own capacity for love far outstretching anybody else's towards him. Nobody treated him the way he wanted to treat anybody else, and he hadn't had a long-term relationship in such a long time. Loneliness settled in his heart, and it seemed like it was the only thing here to stay.

Looking back now, Matthew feels like he was being melodramatic. He had everything he wanted: the band was successful and they were flying high on positive reviews and hundreds of album sales. Life couldn't be better for the trio, but Matthew still felt as if something were missing, not realising until now that it had been standing in front of him the whole time.

The change in status hadn't been too difficult. The pair had always been closer than most, and the sudden switch went unnoticed by many people. Only those astute enough to tell the difference between Matthew's wild mood swings and his purposeful changes in demeanour around Dominic ever guessed what had happened; for everybody else, they simply waited for an announcement.

It took a long time. Dominic didn't feel like he was ready. He said that Matthew was too eager, too clingy, too much like so many ex-girlfriends before him. Matthew told Dominic that he didn't care enough and maybe he should open his heart a little. The pair remained inseparable, but perhaps it was the arguing between them that kept them together. Both would, shamelessly, admit that they thrived on conflict, and the bitter words and barbs flung back and forth across the dinner table only fuelled the fire that they'd rekindle that night in their bunk.

Matthew smiles to himself in his sleep. The beginning was rocky, yes, but eventually things settles out. They found a path that seemed familiar, and they chose to walk it at their own pace. The two ambled along, hand-in-hand, helping each other through album after album, interview after interview. If one was distraught after a particularly scathing review, the other would hold him tight and kiss away his tears. If one got too excited after a post-gig party, the other would always be there to care for him and stop embarrassing himself too much-although Matthew took great joy in teasing the drunken Dominic.

They cared for each other so much that people began to envy them, jealous looks sent their way wherever they went. Trapped inside their own blissful world, they were invisible to Matthew and Dominic, who happily went about their daily lives without a qualm. The pair had found what they wanted most in life, and they were fully prepared to enjoy it to the maximum.

In fact, since that difficult start, everything had been pretty smooth since then. Matthew had been hung on the edge of his seat for a few years, waiting for the blow-up that he knew would happen. With all his past girlfriends, he reached the point where he thought they were finally communicating and suddenly she'd turn around and slap him in the face, screaming all his failures into his eyes.

Dominic never did that.

Matthew smiles again and rolls over, meeting a warm torso. In his sleep, his arm subconsciously wraps itself around Dominic's waist, long fingers stroking the skin of his back and twirling around a dimple in the otherwise smooth skin. Dominic shuffles closer to Matthew, seeking the warmth of the other man, the two locked in an embrace. He can smell Matthew's shampoo, fresh apples greeting his sleepy mind, and his hand finds his hair, stroking through the thick locks gently. His eyes fall shut again and the smoothing motions of Matthew's hand lull him back into a dreamless sleep.

Matthew bites the inside of his cheek as Dominic breathes out, his hair fluttering against the side of his face. He strokes it away and leans into the pillow once again.

It took them a while to find it but, when they eventually did, they found perfection.


	19. Night Become Days

**Inspired by the song by Frank Turner**

I remember in the early days, Dominic, when we sat on the roof of your Mum's house with a bottle of cider. It was bitter on our tongues, so much so that you screwed your nose up in an adorable fashion, but we still finished the whole bottle. Lying back on the tiles of the roof, we watched as the sun rose over the horizon, the air warming up with each extra ray. The colours bled into the sky, clouds of rose drifting across the dusky blue morning. The flaming orb bathed us in bright light, bouncing off your golden hair and highlighting all the dips and curves of your body.

I shuffled closer to you, startled when a tile began to shift beneath my feet. I clung to you, eyes wide with fear, your laughter ringing through the otherwise silent morning. You wrapped a strong, tanned arm around me and I nuzzled my head between your neck and your shoulder, feeling the skin there warming my cheek. You took another swig from the bottle, your Adam's apple bobbing as the liquid slid down your throat, and I pressed a kiss to the long column. You ruffled my hair with a lazy smile, your silver eyes falling shut slowly.

I remember it so clearly, Dominic. It was one of the best days of my life. Before the band and the hectic lifestyle that comes with it, before we got caught up in our own lives, before everything went wrong.

Not that I'm saying the band was a bad thing, because you and I both know that we enjoyed it immensely, but I started to forget things that were really important. We grew bigger and bigger, successes pushing us right to the top, an army of fans lusting after our every move. The years passed by and we continued on with our lives, making music and driving our shiny, new cars around LA. I lived for the days we took out of our lives to simply be with each other, curling up together where I could stroke your hair freely. Those were the days when I reminded myself why I loved you and what we were fighting for.

I wish I'd paid more attention to them now, Dominic. We have all the time in the world, all the time until your countdown runs out.

Your hacking cough cuts through the silence in the room and I wince. It's worse than it originally was, worse than what I believed to be a simple cold. You were in bed for a few days, sleeping unless you were interrupted by another lump in your throat. I went about my days busily, playing the piano, buying food, continuing with my lifestyle. You were going to be better in a few days and you'd be up for going out with me again.

Except you weren't.

Your coughing sounded like you were about to throw up every time you opened your mouth, butting in when you wanted to speak and keeping you paralysed in bed. You were so weak that you could barely lift yourself onto your elbows when I brought your dinner. You spent at least half of the day sleeping and I sat by your side the whole time, holding your hand and caressing the skin there. We called a doctor in who sat beside me, taking your temperature and merely observing as you coughed up a lung in front of him. And then he told you and I could see the tears glistening in your eyes.

Oh, no, you don't have a terminal disease, Dominic. You're not going to die, Dominic, not unless you can't remain strong. It won't get to you if you fight against it with all your might, but I know that it's difficult, Dominic, believe me.

I took up permanent residence by your bedside, only leaving to clean myself up or make our dinners. I fed you soup and the tears streaked down your cheeks as you mumbled about how useless you felt. And I stroked your hair, tracing the tracks of the tears and drying your eyes, assuring you that wasn't the case. You were the strongest man I knew, putting up with all of this when the easiest thing to do would be to just sleep it off and forget about it.

We apologised to the fans, cancelling our gigs for an indeterminate amount of time, and they replied with sweet condolences and 'Get Well Soon' messages. You read them all, every single one, with a soft smile, and I was pleased to see the sparkle returning to your eyes.

We spent so much more time together, Dominic. There was a period of time when you grew stronger and the hope that filled me was overflowing, rinsing the others in the glee emanating from my soul. I drove you down to the coastline when you felt up to it, wrapping a thick blanket around your shrunken form and guiding you down to the beach. We could feel the warm sand slipping between our toes, the sun caressing our bare skin as I led you closer to the sea. A picnic mat was laid out, adorned with miniature sandwiches and dainty cakes that I'd seen your mother baking the day before. The grin that spread across you face was breathtaking as you knelt down beside our friends and family, thanking them for doing this.

We spent at least three hours there, surrounded by people we loved, simply enjoying a day out at the beach like any family. You stayed wrapped in the blanket, hugging your knees to your chest as you stared out at the azure ocean, the sun glinting off the surface like a magic spell. You managed to eat a few sandwiches, much to your mother's delight, and I kept my arm around your shoulders the whole time.

Inevitably, your condition grew worse, and you were confined to your bed again for a few weeks. You begged me to join you, and I laid on the mattress beside you, allowing you to gently stroke my face to your heart's desire as the tears tracked down your pale, sunken cheeks. I bit my lip as you smiled sadly at me and I knew immediately what you were thinking. You weren't able to fight anymore.

The disease started to overtake you, and I began to appreciate how much effort it must've taken to make that recovery only a few weeks ago. There were days when you didn't wake up once, and there were other days when your mind refused to let you sleep. My own rest was constantly disturbed by your coughing, and I would always roll over to rub your back and wrap my arms tightly around you until you calmed down.

I don't want this to happen, Dominic. You're so young, so alive and still as beautiful as ever. I love you more than I could ever say.

I brought you up to the roof of our house one night, the pair of us resting precariously on the tiles as we watched the sun rise. It looks different now, the bright colours muted now that I know what the future has in store, but it made you happy, and that's all I care about. You watched the sky and I watched your face, more and more of your flawless skin revealed to me as the sun rose and lit you up. I could see that shining in your eyes, the smile gracing your face, and I managed to kid myself that you were just like you used to be, that you were well and safe.

I'm going to have to let you go someday soon, Dominic, but I'm not ready just yet.


	20. Possessions

I want to own you. I want you to be near me all the time. I want to never lose the smile on your face, to always hold your hand close to mine. I want to have you in every way possible.  
>I want you to be mine.<br>I want to own the sparkle in your eyes, the silk of your skin, the taste of your breath and the scent of your hair and everything that makes you who you are. I want it to become me.  
>I want you to become me.<br>I want us to become one.  
>We could shine through the sky together, shooting bright like a meteor, dazzling those on the ground with a trail of stars. We could be the dolphins leaping through the ocean, dancing in the deep azure without a care in the world. We could be the atmosphere, the electricity of the moment. We could bottle ourselves up to remember it and unleash the feeling of pure freedom whenever we're lost.<br>You're my freedom. I feel fantastic when you're around, like I can't breathe simply because I'm in such awe. I feel strong, powerful, anything I could ever want to be. You're a breath of fresh air in this world that strangles me, you're the soft, comforting touch on my shoulder when I'm shaking in the corner of my bedroom. You're the soothing sound of piano music I put on the gramophone when I'm at the point of pulling my hair out, tugging on it and wishing it was yours, even for just one more moment.  
>You're my everything.<br>The rich chestnut of your hair, the deep cerulean of those eyes, the enigma of your soul. I want to crack all your codes.  
>You're my little secret.<br>Nobody knows what's going on inside you. Nobody knows who or what you are. Even I have only had the slightest glimpse, the window to your soul opening just a crack before you yank down the blinds and reinforce it twice as much as before. Sometimes I wish I'd never asked. When your insight and wisdom leaves me stranded, I find myself lost in the depths of your mind, wading through the fog and trying to find your comfort again.  
>But I love those misty moors. I love your words, those that curl on your tongue before they spill from your gentle lips. The way they dance on your breath and reveal the world to me one at a time, and then all at once, a sudden gush of power and glee and every emotion anybody has ever felt overflowing from between that rosy flesh.<br>I feel perfect when I'm by your side.  
>You make me feel beautiful. Your gaze caresses me when I'm down, your touch slides against my skin and calms me until I feel like I'm worth your presence. Your heart, your mind, your soul are telling me that I do deserve you, and I can feel it emanating from you. When you're around, I'm bathed in golden rays of power and self-indulgence. You do everything for me and, in return, I would give you my all.<br>Please take it.  
>I can't express enough how much I need you. I can't express enough how much I wish you would take everything I have, take it all so that all I can focus on is you. I want you to be my all, my everything, my life. I want you to have possession of me like I have possession of you, your very soul intertwined with mine until we're soaring through the sky together. And when I die, remember not to leave me.<br>I wouldn't be able to stand it if you left me.  
>If you left me I would crumble. A broken wall with nowhere to lean against, nothing to support it except for the bugs eating it away piece by piece will never stand alone, and can only crumble into the ground. I would disintegrate until there was nothing left but an echo of what I once was. And even that would sound like you.<br>Write me a symphony. I want to hear it spilling from the speakers, hear it reverberating off the walls and ringing around my ears for the next century. I want to hear you humming it to yourself, clicking the roof of your mouth and tapping your pencil against your cheek as you pen down the notes that will dictate your destiny. I want you to show me who you can be, show me your potential, show me your soul.  
>I want you to be who you are. For me.<p> 


	21. Mysterious Pancakes

This morning isn't one of anticipation for these two; the years they've spent together leave for neutral feelings about Valentine's Day. For them, every day is an expression of love and, although they continue the tradition and make it that extra bit special, there isn't a tangible excitement in the air. They haven't bought into the cheesy gift cards and the huge displays of balloons in the local shops, but prefer to lounge in bed until the late hours of the morning.

Dominic smiles as he brushes his hair out of his face, Matthew's sleeping form beside him gravitating to the warmth among the covers. Dom glanced at the clock and slid further down the bed until he was at the edge. He found Matthew's socked feet poking out from under the covers and reached for them, gently peeling the socks away. Yes, he was willing to do this for his love. Ignoring the slight smell-after all, they'd both had a shower the previous night-he took one of Matt's feet into his cupped palms and began to massage it gently. He ran the pads of his fingers along the sole of Matt's foot, sure that he was still asleep due to the lack of giggling and twitching, and dug his thumbs into the heel.

Matthew's back arched then, and Dominic could hear the muffled sound of bones clicking over a barely audible moan. Matthew kept his eyes shut, but he could feel the corners of his mouth pulling up into a soft smile. He rolled over onto his front and mumbled into the pillow. Dom switched feet and Matt wriggled his toes, the two men laughing together.

"Mm, Dom, that's...you don't have to do that," Matt told him, groaning despite himself.

"I want to. I can see how much you love it."

"Not as much as I love you. Come back up here." Dominic crawled back up the bed to lie on his side next to Matthew, brushing dark locks out of his sparkling eyes. They pressed their lips together gently for the first of many times that morning and Dom wrinkled his nose up. Seeing Matt's frown, he explained," Morning breath," with a teasing lilt. Matthew pouted indignantly and slipped out of the bed, padding to the bathroom. Dom heard the sounds of running water as Matt brushed his teeth, and he adjusted the cream covers of the bed, leaning back against the plush pillows and closing his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Matt had pounced on him and attacked his lips again, now refreshingly minty. Dom's head spun as he wrapped his arms around the smaller man.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Matthew murmured between kisses. Dom's lips twitched into a smile.

"Would you be up for going out today?" Matt pulled back, his messy bedhead making his grin of childish glee only look more excited.

"Going out? Where?" Dom tapped the side of his nose.

"Just out." Matt glanced towards the bedroom, where a few streaks of light were breaking into the bedroom, the rays settling on Dominic's skin to give him a sunny glow.

"Not outside out, right?" Dom smirked.

"Not for long." A sigh of relief. The freezing February weather and Matthew didn't mix, no matter how many layers he tried to stuff himself into. He didn't fancy traipsing around in leftover slush for a day, no matter how romantic Dominic was being.

"Then where?" Matt narrowed his eyes, to which Dominic's grin grew.

"You'll have to wait and see!"

"Dominic!" Matthew whined petulantly and Dominic prodded his lips before pulling himself away from the warmth and out of bed. He shrugged his dressing gown on as Matthew watched him, gave him a look that said, 'Follow me' and headed off downstairs. Matthew sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get what he wanted this time around, and reluctantly slid out of the bed one more time.

He could already smell breakfast cooking by the time he got downstairs, despite Dominic only having been there for a few moments. Batter was sizzling in a pan as Dom chopped fresh fruit on the kitchen counter, laying it in organised arrangements on the plates. Matt skipped over to the frying pan and flipped the pancake over before it burnt, Dom giving him a grateful look.

"Pancakes again?" Matt teased. "We only had them two days ago!"

"But we didn't make them ourselves on Tuesday, remember? We bought some ready-made ones from Tesco and just dumped as much golden syrup as we could over them. And you got sick from eating so many." Oh, yes. Matthew did in fact remember that.

"How kind of you to remind me." Matt rolled his eyes. "I guess I could stomach them for another day." Dom slapped his forearm playfully, the pair giggling as Matt slid a golden pancake onto a plate.

"Where are we going again, Dom?" Matt asked, his arm linked in Dom's. The pair were bundled up in coats, but were still wearing their typical sunglasses 'to protect from the brightness of the clouds'.

"I'm not going to fall for that, Matt," Dom laughed. "I haven't told you yet." Matthew sighed, poking his lips out in a pout and hoping to incur Dom's sympathy. The blonde merely smiled at him.

After a few minutes of walking and quiet chatter, the pair arrived at a local cafe that Dom had stumbled upon while shopping a few weeks before. Matt raised an eyebrow as he pushed the door open, a bell tinkling above them to mark their entrance. There were a few people scattered about the shop, some talking together in groups and others enjoying a coffee in the corner by themselves. Dom led Matt over to the counter where a display of cakes was on show underneath the glass and they picked one each, Dom ordering coffees with extra toppings for both of them. Sitting down by the window, Matt leaned back into the comfortable seat and sipped at his coffee, studying Dom's face.

"This place seems really, really nice, Dom," he commented, shrugging off his thick coat as he succumbed to the warmth of the cafe. Gentle music could be heard under the sound of people talking as they drank, soft piano tones intermingled with an orchestra. Matt distinctly recognised the piece but couldn't put a name to it as he scanned the wall behind Dom's head. There was a bookshelf laden with old novels and a few paintings in frames hung on the burgundy walls, a lamp in the corner casting light onto their table.

Matthew absolutely loved it. The smell of roasting coffee in the air made his head slightly woozy and a pleasant warmth settled in his chest. The taste of the milky coffee hit their tongues as they took a drink, whipped cream touching Dom's upper lip. He chuckled and licked it away, Matt smirking at him. Matt closed his eyes and gave a content sigh before leaning forward to try out the muffin he'd ordered.

"I thought you might like it. I came across it one day and just thought it seemed like the sort of place you'd like, y'know? I had to bring you here." Matt smiled softly, reaching over the table to clasp Dom's hand in his own.

"You're right; it's beautiful here. Thank you."

If they'd been watching anybody else, the couple would've deemed it too sickeningly romantic and immediately left. They didn't have much patience for others' displays of affection, but they didn't seem to realise how much they were gazing at each other. Their mutual feelings were almost tangible in the air surrounding them.

"We're definitely coming back here," Matt stated after they finished their drinks, snuggling back into the chair. Dom left his own seat to squish up next to Matthew, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Matthew nuzzled into the space between Dom's chin and his collar, resting his head there and letting his eye slide closed. Dominic pressed a kiss to Matthew's hand, stroking the other man's shoulders.

"Happy Valentine's Day, love."


	22. Trust in the Madness

"Matt, for God's sake, must we be late for everything?" Dom yelled, Matt rolling his eyes as he shaved off the last of the hair on his chin and rinsed the razor.

"I'm almost done. Don't get your knickers in a twist!" he shouted back, smirking as he dried his face, checked his hair one last time in the mirror and headed out into the corridor. Dom was narrowing his eyes at him, Chris chuckling beside him. They started to head out towards the stage, the sound of the crowd growing louder and more intense the closer they got. They could hear the guy introducing them to screams and cries of joy as they broke out onto the stage, and peered around to see the ecstatic faces of their audience for the night.

They burst into Supremacy, Matt lunging across the stage to dance in front of Dom's drum kit, the crowd going wild.

The gig went extremely well. Aside from the minor glitch of Matt's guitar breaking within the first song, there weren't many technical difficulties-aside from when Matt jumped up onto the piano and made it out of tune-and the reception in the crowd was amazing. The joy in the atmosphere was palpable, everyone in the room enjoying themselves even if they didn't want to.

Matt skipped over to the drum kit to take a quick swig of his water, grinning up at Dom as he did so. The audience cried for certain songs, 'Fury' being the most commonly heard alongside requests for an encored of 'Dead Star'. The band smirked to themselves, knowing exactly what they wanted to put in the set, whether the audience liked it or not. But they hoped they would like it. It'd be a bit rubbish if they didn't.

Matt walked back over to the microphone and was about to pull it out of the stand to begin the song when he heard somebody in the crowd yell,

"Madness is shit!" His heart sunk but he refused to let his face fall.

"Hah!" he responded. "We'll play that one for you then!" The crowd laughed at his reply and he grinned to show that he was proud of himself, but inside he was still disappointed. They received a lot of criticism, although not enough to outweigh the response of their loyal fans, but it felt different to have somebody interrupt the gig to say it to his face. He'd put his time and effort into that song, he'd put his soul into that song, and somebody had dismissed it with those three words.

Swallowing nervously, suddenly self-conscious and afraid of messing up, he turned to Dom with a sad frown pulling his eyebrows in. Dom gave him a pointed look and then flashed him a sunny smile, but Matt could see the message in his eyes. 'Keep going. Don't listen to him.'

A quiet, apologetic, "Madness is alright," could be heard before they finally began the song.

The rest of the gig went without a hitch. Somebody threw a horse mask onto the stage which Dom was pressured to wear, much to the amusement of all the spectators. Matt felt himself sinking back into the normal excitement he felt on stage, the thrill of all those people enjoying his performance coursing through his veins, but he couldn't help letting that minor disappointment drag him down a bit.

After they'd finished up and Matt had followed Dom and Chris offstage, they sat down in the dressing room and cracked open two bottles of beer, with a Red Bull for Chris. Matt sighed and slipped into his seat, taking the bottle gratefully and downing half of it in one go. Dom and Chris watched his warily.

"Matt, mate, you alright?" Chris asked tentatively.

"Just thirsty," Matt quipped, lips returning to the rim of the bottle. Chris raised an eyebrow but dropped the subject until the liquid had completely disappeared. Dom still had two thirds of his left. Shaking his head, Chris nodded at Dom and waved goodbye to the pair, intending to meet again with his family in the room next door. There was an awkward silence as the door closed, Matt closing his eyes and leaning back into the chair with Dom watching him the whole time.

They remained like this for a few minutes until Matt snapped,

"What do you want, Dom?" Dom refused to answer, knowing how to deal with the other man when he was in one of these moods. He allowed him to contemplate his actions and, when Matthew let out a deep sigh, knew he'd predicted right. "I'm sorry, Dom. I'm just...a bit highly-strung."

"So I see," Dom replied. "Anything in particular on your mind?"

"No."

"Matt."

"I said, 'No'."

"And I know when you're lying. Don't try and pull one over on me. It's about the Madness thing, isn't it?" Matt ran a hand through his hair, grimacing when it caught because of the hair gel.

"I just...I really thought people liked it," he mumbled.

"Hey, people do like it! Just because that one guy wasn't too taken with it doesn't make it a bad song."

"But for somebody to actually say it? And just as we were about to play it?"

"He was being a dick, Matt. We've had worse criticism than that and look at us now! Don't let it get to you." The blanket of silence settled over them again. Dom took another swig of his beer, watching as Matt played with them hem of his shirt.

"I feel like I'm losing my touch," Matt confessed suddenly. Dom paused, slowly lowering the bottle back down to the table and hoping for Matt to meet his eyes. He didn't. "I...lots of people didn't like The 2nd Law. Said it was too mainstream, said the lyrics weren't heartfelt enough, said I'm just copying our old albums. Don't know whether to believe them or not." His voice grew softer as he spoke until it was almost a whisper. Dom crept from his seat to wrap an arm around Matt's shoulders.

"Now, don't you go starting that. We all know that you're a fantastic songwriter, so you can stop with your moping, okay? Some people didn't like the album, but so many more people did. Did you see everyone in that crowd? One person out of all two thousand didn't want you to play that song. Everybody else loved it. Chris and Morgan and I loved it. In fact, I think the only person that didn't love it was you." Matt leaned his head on Dom's shoulder and sighed heavily.

"I dunno, Dom. I don't know where I'm going with this anymore." Dom's hand found Matt's hair and he began to flatten it down as he stroked his scalp soothingly, tightening his hold around Matt's chest.

"Just go wherever it takes you. Trust me, Matt, it's going to be great. No matter what you do, you'll always have us behind you. Always."

**I know I twisted this a little bit. Matt seemed extremely hyper throughout the whole gig and probably didn't feel like this at all, but I felt like writing it so here /o/ take it. **


	23. Walk of Shame

Strobe lights flash across the room. Thumping music shakes the very foundations of the building. The air is almost foggy, CO2 blocking Matt's view of the crowd except for those people directly in front of him. He knows that Dom is somewhere in that mass of writhing bodies, but he hasn't seen him for at least half an hour. Empty glass in hand, Matt heads back to the bar to get a refill. He slips onto the stool there, swivelling around to survey the scene. He has already had three beers, and he's debating whether to go onto something with a bit more oomph; he's danced with three different people already and is sweating like a beast; he's surrounded by beautiful women batting their eyelashes and pouting at him.

It's safe to say that Matthew Bellamy is having a fantastic evening.

Dom is also enjoying himself rather a lot. With two gorgeous girls on either arm, he's enjoying being pampered in one of the booths. In fact, he would be content to stay here the whole night, if he didn't know that they were needed in the recording studio the following day.

Still, it was their night out. They were going to enjoy it, even if Chris had decided he'd rather not try to make the album with a hangover, and Tom was crying over his latest broken camcorder.

Having downed a shot or two, Matt is now sufficiently drunk. He grins to himself, leaning sideways and almost toppling off the stool. One of the women beside him giggles and moves to help him up, pushing her breasts in his face as she did so. His eyes fall unfocused as he is sat back down, and he bangs his forehead with his fist.

"I need to find Dom," he states simply, and scrambles off the chair towards the dancefloor. He pushes his way through the quagmire, the people around him brushing his exposed skin and sending tingles down his spine. The smell here is...not entirely unpleasant, but not too great either. He can taste alcohol on his breath, and he knows that the smoke isn't just from the CO2; something dodgy was going on around here.

After declining several offers to dance, Matt appears on the other side of the dancefloor. He shakes himself out, taking a deep breath now that the air has cleared a little bit, and scans the area in search of Dom.

He finds his best mate lying in a red leather booth, two girls stroking his skin as he speaks to them lowly. Matt can't hear what he's saying, and isn't yet close enough to read the words from Dom's lips, but he can see the girls giggling. He makes his way over to them, sliding onto the seat on the opposite side of the table and smirking as he waits for Dom to notice him.

A blonde head pokes over the top of the table and grins, and Dom reaches out a hand to give Matt a sloppy high-five.

"Hey, mate, how's your night?" he asks, one of the girls crawling further down his body. Matt is watching her as he replies,

"Pretty good, yeah. I'm smashed." The pair laugh, one high-pitched, the other deep and throaty.

"Don't tell me you're heading back to the hotel." Matt scoffs incredulously.

"Of course not! I was wandering if you were going to get up and dance, is all." He scratches the back of his neck, feeling sweat begin to spring up there, his collar suddenly too tight.

"Yeah, I guess I might. Why? You looking for a partner?"

"No!" Matt answers quickly, glancing away from Dom to see that the girls had started onto each other, now. He rolls his eyes. "I was just curious." He stands up and edges out of the booth. "I'm going up now. See you in a bit."

Dom watches as Matt disappeared into the crowd, the wild party-goers swallowing him up immediately. He rolls out of position, apologising to the women, and follows after him. A wave of heat hits him as he approaches the dancefloor, the dancers generating enough power for the whole of New York City. He pushes through the couples, recklessly accepting an unknown drink from a stranger and downing it in one. Stumbling to the side, he hands the glass back with a grateful smile and continues his search.

There, in the middle of the dancefloor, he can see the skinny figure of Matt sidling up to some woman. As he watches, the woman ducks her head and shuffles off, and Dom can see Matt's cheeks flushing from something other than the warmth of the room. He chuckles to himself and makes his way over, sliding his hands over Matt's shoulders from behind. Startled, Matt tries to break free, but a simple, "Hello," in his ear is enough to make him relax.

"Hi," he croaks back, his voice barely audible over the deafening music. Nothing can be made out except the drum pattern, something that Dom revels in but Matt finds slightly off-putting. The music shakes their bones, coursing through their veins in time to the beat of their hearts. Matt is distracted from his growing headache, however, when he realises that Dom still has his arms draped over his shoulders and is gently swaying behind him. Without thinking, Matt grabs Dom's hands to rest them on his waist, leaning back into his arms. Dom immediately tightens his hold and starts to move a bit more forcefully, pressing himself into Matt's back. The brunette leans his head back until it is almost resting on Dom's shoulder and looks up at him with darkened, cobalt eyes.

The damp ends of his hair are curling at the edges of his forehead, his skin almost glowing under the flashing lights. The exposed column of his neck reveals tendons that seem to dance under his skin. Dom swallows, his hand subconsciously tangling itself in the rich, dishevelled locks, and Matthew's eyes slip closed.

The pair move together slowly, the alcohol clouding their brains until their surroundings are fuzzy, and all they can feel is the other. Matt arches his back until he is pressing into Dominic, and that's when it changes. A sharp intake of breath is all that is needed for the small man to turn himself around and press his lips to Dom's, hot breath shared between them as rosy lips slide and pull. Firm hands draw him closer, one between his shoulder blades, the other shamelessly venturing lower, sparks of pleasure shooting up their bodies as they come close.

Matt pulls back, Dom whining as he pouts. "Come on," he says breathily, "let's get out of here." Slim fingers wrap around Dom's wrist as he is led to the bar. Matt tosses some cash onto the surface and they escape from the room as swiftly as possible, the cool midnight air outside hitting them as they peer around the curb.

"We'll be waiting ages for a cab," Dom groans.

"Let's just walk, then," Matt suggests, tugging on Dom's arm as he leads him down the road. They stumble over the pavement together, giggling when the other trips up, and eventually find themselves outside the hotel.

"In, in, in," Matt urges, pushing Dom through the double doors into the foyer. They try to be discreet as they hobble over to the stairs, but when Matt clatters up and bursts into laughter only five steps up, everybody in the lobby stares at the door.

It takes them several minutes to reach their floor but, eventually, they do find themselves in the corridor. It is hushed here, most of the residents sleeping already, and Matt's giggles are the only things to be heard. He fumbles in Dom's trouser pockets for the door key, waggling his eyebrows lewdly as he gives his thigh a squeeze. Dom squeaks and plucks the key from Matt's fingers, unlocking the room.

They don't even bother to turn the light on.

The following morning, Matt wakes up with a pounding in his head. His eyes water as he squints over at the clock on the bedside table and he laughs quietly to himself. Of course. Chris was going to be so pissed.

He rolls over onto his front and is met with a solid, warm body. He grins to himself, hand sliding up this person's torso and gently stroking the soft skin there. When he is met with a flat chest, however, he pauses. Confusion forces his face to crease up, and he sits up slowly, holding one hand to his head. Glancing over at said person in his bed, he swears furiously.

Surely he hadn't gone to bed with a certain blonde man, who just happened to have tempting biceps, right?

Surely he wouldn't have gone to bed with any man, let alone his best friend?

But, no, there's Dom, sleeping his bed like it's no big deal.

Is this even _his_ bed?

Dom turns over in his sleep, and suddenly Matt is trapped by a tanned arm. He swallows, looking down at it and seeing red marks all along the length of his muscle. Are those...?

Yes, it's all coming back to him now. As he tries to shake his hangover free, he remembers some of last night. Only glimpses and flashes, but they hold enough importance to change him. He remembers half-lidded, stormy eyes staring at him and a feeling deep within him that's unfamiliar yet so completely perfect. He remembers feeling his own lips on tanned skin, biting down to mark it as his own. He remembers dragging his fingernails down a muscled back, the glorious feeling of hot, sweaty skin beneath him. He remembers slightly salty kisses, remembers giggles and deep groans and Dominic.

He bites his lip.

Did it all happen?

Is he glad it happened? He certainly isn't as freaked out as he expects himself to be, but this isn't the first time he's woken up in the same bed. Far from it, in fact. The only thing different about this time is that he's naked as the day he was born, and Dom isn't so close to the edge of the bed that he's about to fall off.

He hears a cough from behind him and turns his head to see Dom's eyes starting to open. There's an exasperated groan, and his eyes flutter shut again before reopening suddenly.

"Matt?" Dom exclaims, his voice too sleepy to be firm. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?" There's the subtle glance down, and Matt knows that Dom can see his pale, bare shoulders, and is probably just registering cold feet pressed against his shins. Matt smiles uneasily.

"You don't remember, do you?"

"Oh, God, we didn't. Oh, _no_," Dom groans, throwing himself to the other side of the bed and taking the duvet with him. Matt yelps as his naked body is exposed to the chilly air, tugging on the duvet for a bit of coverage. It won't budge.

"Dom." No reply. "Dom. Dominic, I can see your arse. Dommy!" His voice turns sing-song as he pokes the flesh, and Dom squirms, tucking the duvet underneath him. "I'm just going to lie here, butt-naked, until you give me some duvet."

Horrified, Dom throws the duvet back in Matt's direction, the smaller man smirking with victory.

The sound of knocking on the door startles them out of their playing, and they glance at each other and then back to the door comically.

"Shit," Matt hisses. He scrambles out of the bed, hearing Dom's cries of, "No! I am scarred for life, now. No-o!"

"I don't know why you're so afraid of my bum, Dom. You spent enough time there last night," Matt says, accompanying the statement with a cheeky wink. Dom buries his head in his pillows.

The banging is more insistent now, and the pair can hear the sound of Chris outside.

"If you don't open this damn door, Dom, I'm gonna come in," he yells. Matt stumbles across the room.

"I can't find my clothes!" he cries. "Dom, where did we put them?"

"I don't know!" Dom answers, his voice strained. He runs a hand through his hair and leaves it there, tugging on the strands. "Just throw some of mine on and get in the bathroom."

Matt picks up the first thing he can find and scurries into the en-suite, locking the door and disappearing. Dom flops out of the bed, wrapping his dressing gown around him and opening the door for a very angry Chris.

"You were supposed to be at the studio nearly two hours ago!" Chris exclaims, throwing his hands up.

"Sorry, mate. Must've slept in," Dom mumbles.

"Clearly. Don't you know how to work an alarm?" Chris angry voice goes right to Dom's head, his hangover making him woozy.

"I-yeah. I don't remember it, though. It didn't go off." Chris sighs and leans against the doorframe.

"Fine, whatever. This is your time too, so it's your time you're wasting lying here in bed." Dom nods. "And, while you're at it, do you have any idea where the hell Matt's got to? He didn't answer at all, and I even got reception to ring up his desk, but there was no reply." Dom shrugs in the hopes that Chris will leave him alone.

"Can't help you there, mate, sorry." Chris narrows his eyes.

"You always know where Matt is."

"Not today." There's an awkward silence between the two as Chris searches Dom's face, and it is only interrupted but a bang and the sound of Matt swearing from the bathroom. Chris raises his eyebrows slightly and steps into the room. Dom swallows nervously behind him.

"Chris, if you want me to get dressed, at least give me a little privacy," he orders, but Chris ignores him.

"Who've you got in here?" he asks, tapping on the bathroom door. All noises are silenced. "Pick up a bird last night, did we?" Dom nods shakily and watches as Chris looks down at the floor. He hooks his foot through a pair of braces on the floor, holding them up on his Converses, and his eyebrows skyrocket up to the roots of his hair.

"These don't look like yours," he remarks casually. "In fact, they look quite a lot like something I saw Matt wearing la-"

"Ok-ay, Chris, that's enough now!" Dom practically pushes him through the door in an attempt to usher him out. "I'm going to get dressed, and I'll see you at the studio. Hopefully one of us will run into Matt." There is another dubious noise from the bathroom and Dom curses inwardly.

"Yeah, hopefully," Chris mutters, shaking his head. He eyes Dom once more and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

Dom collapses onto his bed and Matt falls out of the bathroom door, a pair of Dom's tight skinnies cutting off the blood supply to his legs.

"Dom, help," he squeaks, tugging at the legs in an attempt to yank them off.

"Matt, are we going to talk about last night?" Dom questions, searching through his suitcase for some paracetamol.

"Uh, I don't know, are we?"

"Well, I think we should."

"Okay. What do you-_shit_-want to say?"

"Just want to make sure that we both agree never to speak about this ever again to anybody ever."

"Sounds like a good plan," Matt agrees, struggling with the jeans. "Now could you please help me get these off, preferably before I die."

"If I must," he sighs dramatically.


	24. Furious Destruction

He stands on the edge of the stage and, for the first time in several years, he looks nervous. I have grown so used to seeing him looking victorious, exhilaration colouring his cheeks and a huge smile splitting his face, that this almost sees unnatural to me. Even though I am aware of his volatile nature and dramatic mood swings, it still catches me off guard. He shouldn't be looking like this. Not on stage, where we're most at home. Surrounded by people that love us-how could he possibly be upset?

And yet there he is, trembling slightly. Perhaps it's just the wind, but his hands are shaking and I'm surprised I'm the only one that's noticed it. He's shrunken in on himself, now, and the way he holds the microphone as if it were something fragile suggests that he's more disturbed by earlier events than he's led us to believe.

A blackout. It's been a while since that happened to us, our technology usually perfect now that we've got the right people on the road. It's been a while since anything too bad has happened to us music-wise, in fact, which is probably why it came as such a shock to us. We knew this crowd was going to be difficult to get going, what with our supporting acts being a little dubious, and we knew we were going to have to work hard. This is America; they want to see your effort, want to see your commitment. After twelve years of desperate touring here, we weren't about to give up.

And yet it almost seems as if he has.

Being professionals, of course, we continue with our set as if nothing is wrong. He croons into the microphone and struts around with the guitar swinging over his shoulder, trying his best to impress the hordes of people staring up at us from the field below the stage. To the untrained eye, nothing would seem wrong, but I know better.

He walks towards me at the end of Uprising, and there's a glint in his eyes that unnerves me, the hairs on my arm standing on end. There's an amp to the right of my drum kit, an amp that takes almost as much loving abuse as I do, and he's heading for it like a heat seeker. As soon as they collide, everything will blow up.

The guitar crashes against the amp once, and the sound is so familiar yet completely foreign. There's a look of rage on his face that I haven't seen since the early years, when countless faulty guitar systems had him so aggravated that the whole setup was trashed by his uncontrollable anger. He's a force to be reckoned with, when he wants to be, and, as the guitar hits the amp a second time, I know it's not going to survive.

The Matt-tornado spins to the edge of the stage, swinging the guitar by the headstock as he sometimes does. He goes around and around, once, twice, three time, and then is launched into the sky, cutting through the still air and soaring towards my drumkit. I flinch instinctively as it crashes down against the drum riser and I can see there's a chunk missing from the back, just like there's a chunk missing from Matthew's current demeanour.

The amp falls to the floor with a thump that can barely be heard over the feedback from the guitar, and he's kicking it so hard that he'll end up with bruises tomorrow. I know better than to try and interrupt him when he's in one of these moods, so I merely watch and play, watch and play as he destroys everything around him and hope that he doesn't destroy me, too.

He's still not calm when we're in the dressing room after the gig.

He's still not calm when he's sipping his customary glass of red wine, because I can see his hands are still shaking and his eyes are still narrowed and the lines in his forehead just get deeper and deeper and deeper.

He worries me a lot.

Even when he grumbles into my shirt when I throw an arm around his shoulder and hold him to my chest, even when his fists are clenched and I know that he's remembering the gigs from the early days when nobody appreciated us, he's still himself.

Because he is the anger that boils up inside him. He is the emotions he feels, and he makes everything else part of him. Everything he touches feels what he feels, and I know that his negative energy is seeping into me through our shirts, but I'll gladly take it. It's probably safer in me than in that tiny weapon. I know better than anyone that only the slightest thing can set him off, and he always finishes what he starts.

He will get over this. It might take a few days, perhaps until the next gig, to restore his confidence, or he might be back to normal in an hour or two. He might get distracted and stop thinking about it, might lose himself in a few more glasses of wine and let the memory drift away. Perhaps one day, if I'm very lucky, he'll forget as soon as he crawls into my lap. It's a power I don't possess just yet, but I'm working on it.


	25. Musos for Losers

**Again, not entirely Belldom, but, well...**

"I heard you stapled some of our Musos to some poor girl's arse last night," Matt asked, his voice bouncing off the walls and his footsteps increasing in volume as he got closer and closer to Dom. The blonde man cracked one eye open and stared up at Matt, who had his arms folded across his chest. Dom sighed and turned over, burying his face into the the pillow in the hopes of smothering his hangover. "What the hell made you do it?"  
>There was a muffled grumble, to which Matt replied, "Come on, get up, you lazy arse. You've had worse than this before." Matt tapped his foot impatiently on the floor and he waited for Dom to drag himself out of bed, still wearing the same skinny jeans and leather jacket from the night before. "Christ, Dom, you absolutely reek."<br>The blonde man rolled his eyes and groaned, shuffling away from the bed to fix himself a cup of coffee. His hand slapped the surface of the counter as he blindly fumbled for some paracetamol, and he was aware of Matthew still floating around behind him.  
>"Look, don't you go acting all high and mighty on me," Dom muttered, swallowing two pills and pouring boiling water into the mug he'd set out in front of him. Some of it splashed onto his wrist and he hissed as the pain sizzled on his skin. "You've had your fair share of wild nights, too." Matt scoffed.<br>"When we were younger, yes. But now we're growing up. I've got a family to look after, Dom. I have to set an example to-"  
>"Bullshit! The kids weren't even there! I know that you'd never let them anywhere near as debauched as that place. And you knew what you were getting yourself into when we booked the party, so don't you dare act all innocent and pretend you're some fantastic father figure just because you're getting boring."<br>Matt's eyebrows slowly rose up his forehead as he regarded Dom slumped bleary-eyed in a chair at the table, head hanging as he tried and failed to bring the mug of coffee up to his lips.  
>"So I'm boring, now." There was a pause as Dom sighed, running a hand through his hair and getting frustrated when he found his fingers getting caught in matted knots. He slammed his fist back down onto the table, the wood shaking with the force.<br>"That's not what I mean."  
>"It sure as hell sounded like it."<br>"And you know I don't always say what I feel." Matt rubbed the back of his neck, realising he was in far too deep all of a sudden. He'd only come into the room to wake Dom up so they could get on the road, and now he was being dragged into a heart-to-heart, which were becoming ever more infrequent and ever more painful. He slipped into the chair opposite Dom.  
>"Yes, you have been rather secretive, lately." Dom grunted, taking a large gulp of his coffee and lifting his head up to look Matt in the eye. He really did look dreadful, bags under his eyes drooping and his hair stuck to his forehead with dried sweat. Matt knew that he would spend the next two hours making sure that he was fresh and, by the time he emerged, he would be looking immaculate and ready for the day. Only he saw Dom before he put on that exterior.<br>"What of it?"  
>"I'm your best mate, Dom. I want to know what's troubling you. Everything's perfect at the moment and yet you keep getting fucked up like this and I don't understand why."<br>"Why do you even care?" Matt frowned as Dom averted his gaze again, concentrating on his steaming cup of coffee.  
>"What do you mean? I care because you're my friend and you have been for over twenty years, Dom. When have I not cared?" There was a mutter from the other man that went straight over Matt's head. He blinked. "Sorry, what?"<br>"It's nothing."  
>"Well it's obviously something important to you, if you're getting this worked up over it." Dom slammed the mug down on the table, coffee sloshing out and spilling over the surface, seeping into the few papers collected there. They ignored it.<br>"I just got drunk, okay? I was just trying to have a good time and I was enjoying myself and I was hoping to get laid and I didn't, right. So I was annoyed and I drank more. That's all. Stop making mountains out of bloody molehills."  
>"Dom, I can see it's-"<br>"That's always the way with you, isn't it? Always something more than it is and you're searching for something that doesn't exist. Just go and run back to your fiancee and tell her your friend's holding up the line because he's too drunk to stand, I don't care." Matt sat in silence, watching Dom's actions. They remained motionless for a good few moments. "Go on. Fuck off."  
>"Fine." Matt's voice was a soft whisper, and the only sound in the room was that of the chair legs scraping against the vinyl floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets and left the room, slamming the door as he left and punching a hole through Dominic's stomach.<br>Again. He'd done it again.


	26. Oh Brother

**Hi, guys, long time no see! I've actually been really busy with exams and some new fics I've been starting, and I've been posting them over on AO3 recently. Critics United have been on my back over here for writing RPS when it's against the rules, and I'd rather migrate and leave a memory than be reported. I figured the easiest way to tell you would be to give you a link here, so you can now find this story and its updates (as well as most other stories) here: archiveofourown org /works/854776/chapters/1790193**

**You'll have to fill in the dots there.**

**Oh, and this one's inspired by the Frank Turner song of the same name. As they often are.**

The two boys sat together in the garage, shivering in their jumpers against the cold. The dark-haired one picked up his guitar and slung the strap over his shoulder, gently plucking the strings to make sure they were all in tune. The blonde watched him, silently spinning drumsticks in his hands. He threw one up in the air and held one hand out to catch it, but it fell past his palm and clattered to the floor. The brunette laughed into his hand and cleared his throat.

"Are we just gonna go through what we did yesterday, yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Dom replied, tapping his knees with the sticks as he thought. "You're alright with the chords and stuff, right?"

"Yes, Dom," Matt sighed, rolling his eyes. "I was fine with them yesterday, and they day before that, and the day before that."

"I know, I know, but they're difficult, you know?" Another eye roll followed by a strum of the strings and the boys were ready to go.

It wasn't a particularly tuneful song that they played that day. Neither was too sure of how to play their instruments particularly well, and a year of exploration led to a few interesting sounds here and there, but overall they just made a racket. Still, when they looked up at exactly the same time and caught eyes, their matching grins expressed more than words, and the failed attempts at playing music, ever could.

* * *

><p>Matt pushed his cereal around in the bowl as he stared at it. Somehow Cheerios didn't seem appealing that morning, although it could have been the nerves that twisted in his stomach when he thought about the exams he had that day.<p>

"C'mon, Matt, eat up your breakfast," his Mum urged him, leaning over his shoulder at the textbook he was reading in a last minute bet to cram in all the information. "What've you got later, love?"

"Science," he mumbled.

"Ah, you'll be fine. You're good at science!" She ruffled his hair and he groaned, smoothing it back down again. "Anyway, hurry up. Dom'll be here soon, and you'll be late if you miss him."

At the thought of seeing Dom that morning, Matt started shovelling his cereal into his mouth. His older brother Paul laughed from across the table.

"That excited, eh?" he chuckled. "You two are inseparable, I swear." Matt shrugged, mouth too full with cereal to reply. "I swear to God, sometimes I think he's more of your brother than I am."

Another shrug, followed by a knowing smile and a twinkle in his eye had Paul sighing to himself and leaving Matt to finish up alone.

* * *

><p>Five years later and the clattering noise had changed into something melodic, something that didn't hurt the ears but almost soothed them. Matt was crooning into a microphone and blushing as he hid behind his hands, the lack of long hair to cover his face disconcerting but refreshing, in a way. Dom watched him from behind the drums as he readied himself for his part in the song, seeing the way Matthew leaned forward slightly, hands caressing the microphone as though it was the face of a lover.<p>

These years of endless practice had led them somewhere, at least. They'd been touring a few small places, seen a few hundred people, playing a few gigs; everything was starting to come together. Suddenly it seemed like their dreams weren't quite so far away, as though they could reach out and just touch them if they stretched their hands.

* * *

><p>Matt giggled as the woman painted the colour onto his face, peering into the mirror in front of him and then shying away from it.<p>

"You look like you've been rolling around in Wotsits," Dom remarked from the other side of the room, where another woman was padding the same orange onto his own skin.

"Yeah, well at least I don't look like I had a sunbed accident," Matt retaliated.

"We're both the same colour, you dick."

"Doesn't suit your skin type. You look all sickly."

"Better than your white arse."

"Oi, you two, you're both as stupid as each other," Chris yelled. "Now, could you please shut your gobs? I'm trying to read here."

The pair fell silent, but Matt's lips began to twitch as he thought about Chris. He was twenty-three years old and already he was moaning and groaning like Matt's granddad. The more he thought about Chris with a long white beard and a walking stick, the harder it was to keep in his laughter. When he looked up at Dom and saw a matching mischievous smirk on his face, they were both done for.

They burst into fits of laughter, the woman colouring their faces stumbling back as the men doubled over, Dom clutching at his stomach.

"I'm_ trying_ to _read_ here!" he mimicked Chris, dramatically emphasising his faux posh accent. Matt started giggling even harder at that, and when the youngest man threw down his book and stormed out of the dressing room, the laughter shifted to silent gasps as they tried to regain their breath, cackling like children.

* * *

><p>Matt's phone buzzed, the vibrations travelling through the counter so that the whole tour bus was reverberating with his ringtone. He scowled, picking up the item and pressing a random button in the hopes that it would turn off.<p>

"Is she calling you still?"

"She won't stop," he groaned, throwing the phone onto the sofa where it bounced onto the floor. He sighed to himself, kicking it away from him.

"You need to stop breaking things," Dom laughed. You might be able to get new guitars after every gig, but your phone has important stuff. Like, maybe, your girlfriend's phone number. That might come in handy."

"Don't even talk to me about her, right now, Dom. I can't be handling this."

After the dreadful week following Dom's father's unfortunate passing after Glastonbury festival, Matt had spontaneously taken off to be with him in Teignmouth for a little while before he was ready to go back on tour, forgetting to inform his girlfriend that he wouldn't be on tour, nor would he be coming back to Italy. She only found out he was staying away for a while when she saw the postponed dates on the website, which resulted in an angry phone call and constant text messages after Matt hung up on her.

"You really should talk to her, mate. You know that she's right." Matt shook his head fiercely, looking up at Dom with a flicker of a disbelieving smile.

"She's not right, though. I should probably have told her, but she has to understand. You're my best mate and you're grieving. I had to be there for you, no questions. Sh-she...she knows how important you are to me, and she should have known I was going to do that!" His eyes grew harder, his fists clenching slightly as his volume grew, his passion obvious. "I couldn't abandon you when you needed somone. I'm supposed to _be_ that someone. I'm supposed to always be here for you, no matter what. And I will be. Damn it, Dominic, don't you dare think that girlfriends will ever get in the way of that."

He looked Dom directly in the eyes, startled grey meeting defiant blue. Dom's lips were parted slightly, Matt noticed, and he was watching him carefully.

"I...don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew."

He nodded, biting his lip.

"Thanks." Matt grunted and shrugged, pulling a book into his lap from the side and flipping open the first page. "You know it goes both ways, right?"

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbled, engrossed in his book. Dom sighed, leaving Matt in peace and going to make himself some lunch.

* * *

><p>"Matt, will you stop making noises?"<p>

"I'm not making noises."

"You've stopped now. But you were. And it was annoying."

"Sorry."

Silence.

"Hey, Dom, this is kind of like a sleepover, isn't it?"

"Wh-what?"

"Well, it's like we're kids again. Remember we would sit up and talk for hours? We could do that again. Chris isn't listening."

"Matt we're in our twenties, mate. And I can't believe you're just getting this now. Go to sleep, you fuckwit."

Another pause.

"C'mon, Dom, we haven't chatted in ages. I wanna know what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking that you need to shut up before you say something really stupid and I have to tape your mouth shut."

"You're mean. You're worse than Paul."

Dom grinned in the darkness, rolling onto his other side and ignoring the smaller man.

"Fine, I won't tell you about that girl who asked after you. Or about the cool people I met who are trying to arrange some big arena gigs for us. I guess you're not interested."

_Or the fact that Gaia and I keep arguing and I don't know what to do._

"Tell me tomorrow."

Matt huffed in annoyance. Was it so difficult to get Dom to pay attention to him once in a while?

"Fine."

* * *

><p>"Do I really need to pour your cereal for you? Can't you do it yourself?" Dom asked, tipping the box even as he said it and shaking it, hearing the flakes rattle inside. Matt pouted and shook his head, holding out his bowl. "You big baby! Should I pour your milk as well? How about a glass of orange juice with that for my little baby brother?"<p>

"Yes please," Matt giggled, the cup slowly filling with thick juice. He lifted it to his lips, licking up the little bits that were left on his lips and looking over at Dom making his own cereal. "Thanks, Dommy."

"S'alright, Bells. God knows you could've asked for worse things."

Matt cackled, spooning cornflakes into his mouth around his laughter.

* * *

><p>"We could play Truth or Dare. We haven't done that in a while." Dom rolled his eyes, taking another large swig of his beer.<p>

"You know everything about me and I know everything about you. It'll just end up in tears again."

"I didn't cry last time! Or the time before that!"

"No, but Chris did." They laughed at the memory, Matt's cheeks tinged slightly pink.

"Fine. Well, you think of something better to do. We're all alone and almost drunk and there so little on this tour bus we might as well be roaming the desert."

"Put Knights of Cydonia on and then we'll think of something." Matt shook his head and groaned.

"I've had enough of it already. We've only been touring a few weeks and I'm sick of my own songs, oh, God!" He cried, always tending towards melodrama, and flopped onto his bunk, his face pressed into the pillow. Dom poked his bum with a drumstick and chuckled.

"C'mon, Grumpy Pants, what happened to playing games? You haven't turned into a whiny drunk, have you?" Matt mumbled into the pillow, his voice muffled by the fabric. "What's that? I didn't hear." There was another mumble and Dom poked him with the drumstick again. "Speak up, mate!"

"I said..." Matt began, lifting his head from the pillow so he could be heard clearly, "that you'd better watch out."

"For?" Dom stepped back as Matt crawled back out from under the other bunk, hiding his face in his shoulder.

"Me! Ha!" He leapt at the blonde, pushing him onto the bed he was leaning against, Dom's silvery eyes widening in shock as the smaller man crouched over him, wiggling his fingers.

"What are you-no! No, no, no, Matt-ahahah-stop!" He screeched as the fingers drilled into his pits, Dom's eyes watering at the tickling sensations on his sensitive skin.

"Never! I reign the kingdoms under the name of The Tickle Lord and you will bow down to me, o inferior weenie one." He raised his arms from Dom's skin and lifted his head proudly, bashing it into the bed above him. His face contorted with pain as he bent back down again, rubbing his head and glaring at Dom as he rolled across the bed, clutching his stomach with laughter.

"The Tickle Lord just got beaten by a bed. How does it feel, o mighty one?"

"Sore," Matt admitted, feeling an ache beginning to develop due to the awkward angle at which he was squashed. He pouted sadly as Dom calmed down, light giggles still diffusing out on occasional breaths. Dom looked up at his protruding lips, a familiar sight, and bit his own lip, raising a hand up to sling it over the back of Matt's neck. He rubbed his head, Matt's eyes falling shut as the pain eased.

"You'll probably have a bruise there tomorrow," Dom muttered, Matthew's lips twitching slightly but remaining in a thin line, eyelashes resting on his pale skin. Slowly, Dom lifted his head to meet Matt's, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His eyes flew open and Dom found himself staring into churning, startled azure before he pulled back, leaning on his elbow to give himself some leverage.

"W-what was that for?" Matt asked, the bump on his head forgotten about as he took in the shock. Dom shrugged and looked away, ashamed of himself for giving in. Matt's hands moved to cup his face, slim fingers, tracing along his cheekbones as he stroked the skin there, remarking internally on how Dom was losing all his puppy fat, sharp lines transforming him into a handsome man. He bent forwards, joining their lips together again and smiling when Dom didn't pull away, the arm still resting on his neck tightening to pull him closer.

"This feels like incest," Dom laughed when they broke apart.

Matt gasped, wide eyes penetrating Dominic's own as he panicked.

"No, it can't be! Can it? I mean, we're not related, but then I guess we are like brothers, oh, shit, I-" Dom laid a finger over Matt's lips, still grinning at him.

"I was joking, man. Chill out." Matt still looked quite troubled, but his bowed eyebrows started to relax as he laid down flat on Dominic's chest, their bodies pressed together from head to toe. Dominic's torso was a familiar comfort, the heat radiating from him Matt's security when he lost himself.

"So...if we're not actually brothers, and therefore that kiss wasn't incest...can I do it again?" Dom chuckled bashfully and nodded, Matthew's fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging his hand to his chest as he pulled him into another kiss.


End file.
